
Class __il_iA 
Book_._WXEJi— 
CopyrigMlJ?- /90g , 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



New Version 

OF 

East Cynnc 



By 
WILLIAM J. DEAN 





1902 



SOUVENIR 

REBECCA WARREN 

As Ladylsabelle 

SEASON 1902-3 



PROPERTY OF 

3URT, WARREN & DEAN 

£j TOLEDO, OHIO 



ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



'imm 




MR. WILLIAM J. DEAN 



New Version 

OF 

East Lynne 






By 
WILLIAM J. DEAN 




Souvenir 

Rebecca Warren 

As Lady Isabelle 

Season 1902-3 









yV 



THE LIBRAi?Y OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two COPiet: ftcCfiivED 

*5F:r-, jii 1902 

\ COPVBWHT EN-n»v 

CCASS^ XXa No. 



^ 





00k anir Pla:g 



The novel "East I^ynne '' was written by Mrs. 
Henry Wood about 1858, and met with immediate suc- 
cess. The book had little or no literary value, but 
the story was so full of human interest that it 
appealed to all classes. 

The first dramatization was made by Cliftorl 
Tayleure, in 1865, and produced at the Boston 
Museum. The orig-inal cast was — 

Lady ISABBi,i,K I ,, ^, _ 

MME.VINB \ MISS KATE DKNIN 

Archibald Carlyle Mr, John Wilson 

Sir Francis IvBvisoN . . . . Mr. R. L. She; well 

Lord Mount Severn Mr. T. M. Hunter 

Richard Hare Mr. Fred Williams 

Mr. Dill Mr. J. H. Ring 

Officer Mr. J. R. Pitman 

Justice Hare Mr. G. G. Turner -^ 

Little Willie Miss Swindlehurst 

Barbara Habe Miss Annie Clarke 

Miss Carlyle Miss Bmily Mestayer 

Joyce Miss M. Parker 

Wilson Mrs Fred Williams 

SusANNE Miss Wright 

E^ast Lyune was next produced in 1867, at the 
Continental Theatre, Boston, with Miss Lucille 
Western in the leading role, supported by the fol- 
lowing- caste — 




MM^VlNr"-'! • ■ • M.SS H,.CELI.E WKSTEKN 

Archibald Carlyi,e .... Mr. J. W. Coi,lier 
Sir Francis Levison . . Mr. C. Barton Hili, 
Lord Mount Severn . . Mr. W. J. LeMoyne 

Richard Hare Mr. D. R. Ai,i,en 

Justice Hare - . Mr. J. Keefe 

Mr. Dili, Mr. W. H. Otis 

Officer Mr. Atkins 

IviTTLE Willie Miss Rogers 

Barbara Hark Mrs. D. R. Allen 

Miss Carlyle Mrs. J. H. Rog-ERS 

Joyce Mrs. S. Flood 

Wilson Mrs. T. M. Hunter 

SuSANNE Miss Ramsay 

Ag-ain the play was produced in 1869 at the Bos- 
ton Theatre, with Mrs. D. P. Bowers as Lady 
Isabelle, and the following cast — 

Jit.'S'vfKr"! MKS. D. p. Bow«S 

Archibald Carlyle . . . Mr. C. R. Thorne, Jr 
Sir Francis Levison . . Mr. J. C. McCollom 
Lord Mount Severn . . . Mr. W. M. Leman 

Richard Hare Mr. Shirley France 

Justice Hare Mr. A. Leonard 

Mr. Dill Mr. J. Scott 

Officer Mr. J. Taylor 

Little Willie Miss Emma Chase 

Barbara Hare Miss Rachel Noah 

Miss Carlyle Mrs. Louise Morse 

Joyce Mrs. Susan Flood 

Wilson Miss B. M. Leslie 

SusANNE Miss Ranesdell 

In the three casts mentioned, the reader will find 
several names that afterward become famous and 
many well known to the theatre-going- public of the 
present generation. 

For the past twenty years Miss Ada Gray has 
starred in a version of East Lynne and has met with 
unfailing success. 

Those who have witnessed former productions of 
the play will appreciate the changes that have been 
made in the present version, by William J. Dean, 

6 



who has endeavored to modernize the language, 
eliminate all the old fashioned front scenes which 
delayed the action and destroyed the consistency of 
the story according to the modern school of drama. 



NOTE. -Rights for production of this version of East Lynne 
must be obtained from Burt, Warren & Dean, Burt's Theatre, 
Toledo, Ohio. Fully protected by copyrig-ht. 



Cast 

Lady Isabbi,!,^ \ 

Madam Vinb f ' ' • ^^^^ Rebecca Warrkn 

Barbara Harb Miss Jennie Dunbar 

Miss Cornkwa Cari,yi,e Jane West 

(Mr. Carlyle's Half Sister.) 

Joyce Miss Maybki<i.b Carey 

(Maid to Lady Isabelle.) 

WiivWE Cari.yi,e Little Rhea Eloise 

(Lady Isabelle's Son.) 

Archibald Carlyle .... Mr. John Dilion 
Sir Francis Levison . . Mr. Frederick Kerby 
Lord Mount Severn . . Mr. William J. Dean 

(Lady Isabelle's Gnardian.) 

Richard Hare Mr. Arthur Roache 

Mr. Dill Mr. James J. Connors 

(Clerk to Mr. Carlyle.) 

Wilson Mr. Miles Spera 

(Mr. Carlyle's Butler.) 

Officer Mr. Charles Palmer 



ACT I. 

Scene— Garden at East Ivynne. 

"A Haven of Love." 

ACT II. 

SCBNR— Library at East Lynne. Four years elapse. 
"There is no passion in all the world so 
delusive, so fantastic, so powerful as jeal- 
ousy." 

ACT III. 

Scene— Hotel Grenoble. Sir Francis Levison's Apart* 
ments. Two years elapse. 

"Alone, alone forever." 
8 



ACT IV. 

Scene— Same as Act II. 

" When other lips and other hearts 
their tale of love shall tell." 

ACT V. 

Scene — Madam Vine's Apartments at Bast L/ynne. 

"The end of it all — retribution." 
"Sins that ye do two by two, 
must be paid for one by one." — Kipling. 



NOTE.— The audience is requested to remain seated until the 
curtain falls. 



jci^nj^ Pl0ti$ 



ACT I. 

House R— Bay window from R. 8d to R. C. facing- 
audience ; practical platform. 18 in. high in front 
and ba<k of window, showing the music room 
interior; Entrance to house, door and window R. 
1st to R. 3d; return off R. hedge row from end of 
house to R. C. R. C. to gate L. C. then L,. C. to R. 
1st ; two large trees R. and L,. 2d with tree seats ; 
back drop and cut drop. 

ACT II. 

IviBRARY AT East lyYNNS.— Door R. 3, Bay Window 
R. 3d to R. C; Stairs L,. C. to L,. 3d ; large arch 
L. 3d to Lr. 2d ; fire place L, 2d to h. 1st. 

ACT III. 

Hotel Grknobi,e.— Door C; door L 3d.; fire place 
Li 1st; plain chamber. 

ACT IV. 

Same as Act H., with changes necessary in six years. 

ACT V. 

Pi,AiN Chamber. — Window C, showing church spire 
opposite : door ly. 3d.; fire place L,. 




IC 



•--•! 




MISS REBECCA WARREN 




ACT I. 

Scene — see Phot. 

Lights — see Plot 

Music — Endearing Young Charms. 

[As curtain rises Dill enters from gate C. 
Joyce from house L. 
Dill 

Joyce, Francis Levison just rode over from 
Castle Marling, and told me that Mr. Carlyle 
and his bride would arrive within the hour. 

Joyce;. 

Isn't it splendid, Mr. Dill. I'm to be a real 
lady's maid — Lady Isabelle Carlyle. {Courte- 
sy in g.) 

DiLU 

Indeed you will be, and she's a fine lady too, 
Joyce. So beautiful, so sweet — 

JOYCS. 

And so grand. 

Dill. 

(Laughs.) Well, Miss Corney, Mr. Car- 
lyle's sister, won't like that. You should have 
heard her tirade when she learned of the mar- 
riage. "Married, indeed, to that fine Lady Child, 
Lord Mount Severn's expensive daughter, who 
goes to Court in feathers and a train streaming 
three yards out behind her, looking like a young 
princess in a fairy tale. All very well for her but 
not for us." (Laughs.) 



Joyce. ' 

Miss Corney will put a stop to all that if she 
can. Besides Lady Isabel's father, Lord Mount I 
Severn, died and left her penniless, didn't he? 

Dill. 

Without a penny in the world. I don't think 
Mr. Carlyle would ever have had the courage to 
ask her to marry him if it had not been for her 
forlorn condition. — Get along, Joyce. They'll be 
here soon. 

Joyce. 

(C) Mr. Dill, wouldn't it have been fine to 
have had a reception — a band — and all that, when 
they arrived. 

Dill. 

(Laughing) (L C. ) Well, Joyce, you 
know Miss Corney. When word came yesterday 
that they would be home to-day — she came flying 
into the office — "He's coming to-morrow — away 
six months on a honeymoon — ^bah — " (Laughs.) 
I suggested a reception, and all that. You should 
have seen her — "What, a band, make a circus out 
of my brother Archibald and his bride. No. sir. 
(laughs). I didn't want him to marry at 
all. I'll give them all the reception they want 
when they get here." And flaunted out of the 
office. (Laughs.). 

Joyce. 

She came directly home and instructed me 
to get the rooms in readiness — prepare tea and 
luncheon. 

Dill. 

Miss Corney has the heart of an ox and the 
kick of a mule. She's a bit jealous, that's all — 
like all old maids. (Laughs). 

Joyce. 

Hump ! What's the matter with old bachel- 
ors. (X. L.) 

Dill. 

Come, Joyce, we won't quarrel (looking 

14 



around) Joyce, Capt. Levison and I arranged to 
have the villagers give them a reception as they 
drive into town. Flowers and just a little music. 
Capt. Levison has gone after Miss Barbara Hare. 
They will be here to meet them. After all it 
won't be so bad. 

Joyce. 

Barbara Hare and Capt. Levison — a pretty 
pair — Capt. Levison, the rejected suitor of Lady 
Isabel. Barbara Hare who was mad crazy to 
marry Mr, Carlyle. 

DlLIv. 

Tut! Tut! Joyce, that's only servants gos- 
sip. 

Joyce. 

Servants gossip, indeed. Miss Comey said 
so herself. Why Miss Hare has been flaunting 
presents about the village — saying Mr. Carlyle 
gave them to her. She was here after him all 
the time — Silly fool I 

Dill. 

Barbara came to see Mr. Carlyle in behalf of 
her brother Richard. 

Joyce. 

Her brother — I thought he had never been 
heard from since the night he murdered Father 
Hallyjohn. 

Dill. 

Mr. Carlyle has reason to believe Dick Hare 
is innocent of that murder, and expects to prove 
it. 

Joyce. 

Innocent, indeed, nonsense. See here, Mr. 
Dill, Afy Hallyjohn is my half sister. I know she 
was in serious trouble. Father discovered her 
condition, forced her to a confession. Dick Hare 
was the cause. Father Hallyjohn accused him 
and during a heated argument, Dick killed him. 
—There. 

15 



Dill. 

Richard Hare is a victim of circumstances 
and time will prove his innocence. 

Joyce. 

Well, I think Barbara Hare is a snake in the 
grass — and Capt. Levison is worse — and you'll 
see, Mr. Dill. 

Dill. 

Joyce, my girl, you go now and finish the 
table. (Enter Corney coming from house R.) 
Ah, Miss Carly^e, Mr. Carlyle will be here within 
the hour. 

CORNEY. 

Yes, I know. Here's a telegram from him 
— after six months galivantin about the country — 
on a honeymoon Bah ! Such extravagance. 
(Corney C.) Joyce, is ever)^thing ready for them, 
did you pick the flowers? 

Joyce. 

Yes, Miss Corney, everything is bright and 
cheerful as can be. 

Corney. 

Cheerful, indeed, and for her. I'd as soon 
see Archibald hanged as married. (See's Dill 
laughing.) What are you laughing at? You old 
fool! 

Dill. 

I was just thinking, Miss Corney. 
Corney. 

Now do your thinking in Mr. Carlyle's office 
where you are paid for it — get along. 

Dill. 

Very well, Miss Corney, I'm off to dress for 
their arrival. (Exits singing "See the Conquer- 
ing Hero Comes.") 

Corney. 

Hump — the old idiot. 

i6 



Joyce. 

Miss Comey, Capt. Levison and Miss Bar- 
bara Hare will be here soon to meet Mr. and Mrs. 
Carlyle. 

CORNEY. 

What ! Levison ! That insinuating puppy — 
and Barbara Plare — did you ever. Jealous minx. 
She'll make trouble yet — and Levison means no 
good to anyone. 

Joyce. 

That's just what I said to Mr. Dill. 

CORNE^Y. 

What right have you to say anything. I'll 
do all the talking that's necessary in this house — 
and to think that Archibald should marry with- 
out consulting me. 

Joyce;. 

Why ! Didn't you know, Miss Corney ? 

CORNEY. 

No, I did not. No one thought he'd ever 
marry. It is a most singular match. Just as 
suitable as Beauty and the Beast. She a high 
born lady brought up to revel in expense, left 
an orphan without a penny in the world, and he 
a dull bear of a lawyer like the beast in the tale. 

Joyce. 

Ah ! but think how nice it will be for Lady 
Isabel to come back to her old home. 

CORNKY. 

Old home indeed! He bought this place to 
keep her out of the county poor house. He kept 
tramping over to Castle Marling every week 
after he bought the place, telling me it was on 
business. Business. Bah! He just pitied her, 
that's all. I hope he knows his own mind. If he 
had consulted me (bus). Why when those two 
gold fish, she left behind her. died, he had a fit. 
Hum ! I didn't. I'll stay right here, or she'll 

17 



brinp: him to beggary. I shall be his guardian 
angel. 

(Enter Miss Hare and Levison gate Center.) 

Levison. 

(C) Good afternoon. Miss Corney. 

CoRNEY. 

Good afternoon, {X's to Barbara), good af- 
ternoon. Miss Hare. How's your mother and 
the justice? 

Barbara. 

{L) Very well, thank you. 

Corney. 

Joyce you can finish the table. {Change 
lights to amber, foots down one notch.) 

Dill. 

Yes, Miss Comey. {Exits house R.) 

Corney. 

We expect Archibald and his wife shortly, 
so make yourself at home, out here if you like. 

Levison. 

Thank you, Miss Corney, I have arranged a 
bit of a reception for them as they drive into the 
village. 

Corney, 

Have you, indeed, Mr. Levison. , 
Levison. 

Captain Levison, Miss Corney. 
Corney. 

Well, Captain Levison, I'll be obliged to you, 
if you'd mind your own business. 

Levison. 

Don't be rude, Miss Corney. 
Corney. 

I'm not rude. I'm so excited over this mar- 
riage of Archibald. 

i8 



Barbara. 

Well you should be. 

CORNKY. 

Now why, Miss Barbara Hare should you 
say that? 

Barbara. 

Time will tell, Miss Corney. 

JOYCK. 

(Enters from house.) Miss Corney, will 
you come and look at the table. 

CoRNieY. 

(Going.) I'll be back shortly. (Exits with 
Joyce.) 

Levison. 

Charming female. Well, Miss Barbara, 
CarVle's marriage was a great surprise to the 
neighborhood. He kept it so quiet. We all 
thought he was going to marry you. 

Barbara. 

Capt. Levison, I would rather not discuss the 
matter at all. 

Levison. 

I shall respect your feelings, Miss Hare. 
(Sees chain on her neck.) Pardon Miss Hare, 
but what an odd chain. May I look at it? 

Barbara. 

Certainly. (He does so.) A gift of Mr. 
Carlyle's some months ago — before — 

IvEVISON. 

How strange. 
Barbara. 

Why strange? 
Levison. 

Did you notice where the chain has been 
broken and welded again? 

19 



Barbara. 
Yes. 

Levison. 

Well, I broke it. 

Barbara. 

You? That is strange. 

Levison. 

I took it off Lady Isabelle's neck. 

Barbara. 

Lady Isabelle's neck. (Starts). 

Levison. 

Lady Isabelle's neck. I dropped it and it 
broke, there. (Pointing to it.) 

Barbara. 

Lady Isabelle's neck? Impossible. 

Levison. 

It's a fact. 
Barbara. 

Mr. Carlyle bought this at a shop in Lon- 
don. He would not — could not be guilty of such a 
thing as to get it from her and give it to me. 

Levison. 

Oh ? No, indeed. Miss Hare, Lady Isabelle 
was compelled to sell most of her jewels to pay 
her father's debts. Some Mr. Carlyle got with 
the estate. Some were sold in London. Per- 
haps Mr. Carlyle did buy THAT at some shop in 
London. 

Barbara. 

Oh ! (Takes off chain and is about to tJirow 
it OH' the ground). 

Levison. 

Don't, Miss Hare. Don't blame the poor 
chain, besides it's so pretty and looks so well 
upon your charming throat. 



Barbara. 

(Aside) Archibald, Archibald. (Goes L.) 

Levison. 

(Aside.) She's jealous — good. By the 
way, Miss Hare, any news of your brother ? 

Barbara. 

Nothing, Capt. I^evison. Mr. Carlyle has 
the case in charge and is satisfied he can prove 
his innocence. 

Ldvison. 

Oh, indeed. 

Barbara. 

Yes, there seems to have a man named Thorn 
(bus. for Levison) paying attention to Afy Ral- 
ly John at the time of the murder and the new 
clues seem to point to him. 

Ive:vison. 

Thorn! (He looks for his handkerchief.) 
I've dropped my handkerchief somewhere. , 
(Looks for it.) i 

Barbara. 

Yes, a certain Capt. Thorn . 

Le^visgn. 

I sincerely hope he'll be brought to justice. 
Miss Hare, and your brother will have the free- 
dom an innocent man deserves. 

Barbara. 

Thank you, Capt. Levison. Isn't it nearly 
time for them to arrive ? 

Levison. 

(Looking at watch). Nearly. There will 
be a merry time when Lady Isabelle's guardian, 
Lord. Mt. Severen, learns of her marriage. She 
wedded without his knowledge. He is on a tour 
of the continent. They've been married six 
months, have they not ? 



Barbara. 

Yes ; I think it's six months. 

Levi SON. 

Quite a long, sweet honeymoon, {Barbara 
Willi ces.) 

CORNEY. 

(Enter from house.) Any sign of the fools 
yet ? 

(She has a large bouquet of flozvers.) 

Levison. 

Not yet. Can I help you. Miss Corney? 

Corne:y. 

No, thank you. (X. to L.) 

Levison. 

{B^is. with Unger.) My word, what a 
thorn that bunch of roses has. 

Dill. 

(Bnter from house, also with flozvers.) 
They are coming. I saw them from the tower 
window. 

Corn It Y. 

What an old fool you are. You're decked 
out like a young buck. 

Dill. 

Am I really, Miss Corney. I thought — I 
thought — 

Corney. 

What did I tell you about thinking. You 
should be ashamed of yourself. 

Dill. 

Well, Miss Corney, I'll go change them. 

Corney. 

No, Archibald and his silly wife may like it. 



(Cheering is heard in the distance — band if pos- 
sible.) (Change cal. to red, foots some.) 

Le;vison. 

Here they come. (All go up C). What a 
pretty sight. See the young people throw those 
flowers. 

CORNE^Y. 

The fools. (Goes R). (Barbara has half 
fallen by tree bench L.) 

L^VISON. 

What's the matter. Miss Hare? 

Barbara. 

Nothing, Capt. Levison. 

(Cheers nearer also band. Carriages ap- 
pears at gate. Carlyle alights, helps Lady Isdbelle. 
Servants enter from house and carry luggage 
into house.) 

CarIvYle;. 

(Coming center). My dear, welcome to 
your childhood home. Cornelia, this is my wife, 
isabelle, this is my sister Cornelia. 

CORNEY. 

(X to Isabelle, pushes Howers into her arms.) 
I hope you're well, ma'am. (Courtesying) . 

Carlyle. 

Levison, I'm glad to see you. (Levison Xs 
to Isabelle) and Barbara, this is splendid of you. 
My dear, this is Miss Barbara Hare, an old and 
very dear friend of the family. (Isabelle X to 
Barbara.) 

Isabella. 

I'm very glad to meet you. I trust we may 
be the best of friends. 

Barbara. 

I hope we may, Lady Isabelle. (Barbara 
joins Levison up L.) - 



Carlyle. 

(Who is right, with Dill) And this, my 
dear, is my confidential clerk, Mr. Dill. 

ISABEtLE. 

{X to Dill) I'm sure we'll be great friends, 
Mr. Dill. 

Carlyle (C) 

Well, Levison, I'm a very happy man. 

{Takes I sab die in his arms.) 

ISABELLE. 

Don't be so foolish, Archie. {She puts her 
hand over his mouth. He holds her close to 
him.) {Levison and Dill laugh. Barbara turns 
and zvalks up stage. 

CarlyeE. 

Dill, do you see how I'm buried ? 

DiLE. 

Indeed, I do, sir — and I'd die this minute to 
have such a funeral. (All laugh.) 

CORNEY. 

{Who has been R.) The fools. {Bxit in 
house.) 

CareylE. 

Have you arranged our apartments, Corney 
— and the luncheon? 

Corney. 

Yes, Archibald, I have. 

CareyeE. 

Capt. Levison, if you and Miss Hare will 
await us in the library we'll get rid of the dust 
of travel and join you presently. 

Levison. 

Delighted. Come, Miss Hare. {Exits into 
house) . 

Carlyle. 

Isabelle, I'll turn you over to my sister. 

24 



Isabella. 

Oh, don't leave me. 

Isabella;. 

Why, what's the matter? 
IsabeIvLE:. 

(Hiding face in shoulder.) 

CarlylE. 

Why, my darling", we're old married people, 
married six months, (bus.) I want all our lives 
to be just like this moment, a perpetual honey- 
moon. (Kisses her.) 

(Corney enters\ Sniffs.) 

Carlyle;. 

Corney will show you, Isabel] e, to her apart- 
ments. 



Corney. 








Yes. 


(rs 


^■) 




Careyee. 








I'll be back 


in a 


moment. 



(Bus.) 
(Isabelle watches him off.) 

Corney. 

Well! (Isabelle starts.) (Retnoves hat and 
{■wrap. Corney takes them.) I suppose you'll 
drink a cup of tea. 

IsabeeeE. 

Yes. Thank you. 

Corney. 

Very well, but it will keep you awake all 
night. I hope you wiH be contented with East 
Lynne. 

IsabeeeE. 

Contented, of course I shall. I spent many 
happy, happy days here and Archie is so kind and 
good. 

25 



CORNEY. 

Yes, Archibald is of a very kind and gener- 
ous nature. 

ISABKLLE. 

I've been planning how I shall pass the day. 
I shall ride to town with Archie, assist him with 
his business. In, fact, be his confidential clerk. 
Do you think he will let me? 

CORNEY. 

He'd be a fool if he did. 

ISABELIvE. 

And I shall try and help you as much as I 
can. We will be great friends, Miss Comey. 
(Attempts to kiss her. Miss Comey pushes her 
aivay. Archie enters in time to see this bus.) 

CORNEY. 

(As she x's to Archie.) She's really the 
most peculiar girl. (Exits house.) 

ISABEIXE. 

How queer your sister is. I tried to kiss her 
just now — She seemed quite frightened. I don't 
thinks she was ever kissed before. 

CarlylE. 

Yes, Corney is a bit strange. You'll like 
her beter when you come (As they exit Bar- 
bara Hare appears on balcony from woindoiv C.) 
to know her. Come, dear, you must get ready, 
our friends are waiting. 

Barbara. 

Does he love that woman? I can't stand it 
— I can't stand it. (Dick Hare enters in dis- 
guise. Sees Barbara on balcony.) (Barbara 
hearing noise.) Who's there. 



Dick. 

Barbara! Barbara! (She turns.) 




Barbara. 

Richard, you — Why are you here- 


-Brother? 


26 





Its most important. I came from London 
to-day, went to our old meeting place — old John 
told me you had come over here. {She starts 
down.) No, No, stay here, if any one comes, 
I can step out the gate and be off. 

Barbara. 

Oh, Brother will this ever end. Will the 
day ever come when you can leave off that dis- 
guise and be with us again. 

Dick. 

Yes. sister, within a week I will have enough 
evidence to enable me to give myself up and 
prove that Thorn is the murderer. See this, 
{Takes out handkerchief.) I just picked this 
up. You remember my telling you what a dandy 
he was — diamonds, jewelry and the strange per- 
fume he used. I found this as I crossed the 
road. Give this to Mr. Carlyle as a strong bit 
of evidence. I'm also on the track of Bethel, his 
supposed accomplice. 

Barbara. 

Thank God, brother. Mother is fast break- 
ing down under the strain. You must see Mr. 
Carlyle. I'll arrange a meeting for to-morrow 
ar his office. Now you must go. 

Dick. 

Give him the handkerchief. I'll need money, 
bring it to me when I see you to-morrow night. 
{Kisses her, exit. Barbara starts to exit, meets 
Levison, who comes otit windozv — Pause.) 

Levison. 

Are you ill. Miss Hare? 

Barbara. 

No. Capt. Levison — the room was a bit close, 
that's all. 

Levison. 

Yes it was. — Miss Corney announced that 

27 



tea will be served on the lawn and Mr. Carlyle 
has been asking for you. I shall walk over to 
the stable and order the horses for eight o'clock. 
You'l! excuse me. 

Barbara. 

Certainly. (Exits zvindow.) 
Levison. 

I can see fine fun here yet. So they'r on the 
track of Thorn, eh. I must send word to Bethel. 
That young man, Mr. Richard Hare, must be dis- 
posed of. He must not be arrested, he might 
make it quite pleasant for Thorn. {Laughs 
Exits C.) {Joyce and Wilson enter from house 
with tea table C.) 

Wilson. 

I guess Miss Corney's crazy — fix the din- 
ning table — and then ghange the whole thing to 
the lawn. 

Joyce. 

She's quite beside herself. I think she is 
afraid Mr. Carlyle will send her back to East 
Lynne. {Enter Isabelle from house.) P' 

Wilson. 

She'd better stay here and watch that stuck 
up thing, Barbara Hare. She'll be giving the 
new mistress a cup of poison the first you know. 

Joyce. 

Wilson. hoM your tongue. Go fetch the 
fruit and cake. {Wilson exit.) 

Isabelle. 

{Coming Center.) What's that I overheard 
— give me poison, who? 

Joyce. 

Wilson's only gossiping — Everyone in East 
Lynne thought Mr. Carlyle was to marry Miss 
Hare. She was mad in love with him. 

Isabelle. 

Joyce, never repeat such foolish gossip as 
that again. 

28 



Joyce. 

No, my lady. 

(Lord Mt. Severn enters gate C Riding 
costume. 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

(To Joyce.) I would like to see Mr. Carlyle 



f) at once, if you please. 



(Turning comes down.) Lord Mt. Severn, 
I'm so glad to see you. 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

So, Lady Isabelle, you are married. 

ISABElvIvE. 

Some months ago. Lord Mt. Severn. 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

Will you have your servant call Mr. Carlyle? 

Isabelle. 

Joyce, ask Mr. Carlyle to come here. 

Joyce. 

Yes, Madam. (Bxits.) 

Lord Mt. Severn, 

Isabe'le, why was I kept in ignorance of this 
marriage ? 

Isabelle. 

In ignorance — why, Uncle, Mr. Carlyle 
wrote you as also did Lady Mt. Severn. 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

Strange, strange, but what of Capt. Levison. 
I thought all was arranged between you before I 
left home. 

Isabelle. 

I did not love Capt. Levison. 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

Do you love Mr. Carlyle ? 

Isabelle. 

Yes, I love Mr. Carlyle. He came to Castle 

29 



Marling at Easter on business. We met quite 
often. He proposed. I accepted him and am 
happy. 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

Isabelle, pray God you may continue so. 
Marriages beneath one's station seldom end hap- 
pily. (Archie enters from house X to C, offers 
hand to Lord Alt. Severn, ivhich he refuses.) 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

Isabelle, will you leave us alone. I wish to 
speak to Mr. Carlyle. 

ISABEIXE. 

Certainly. Archie, insist upon Lord Mt. 
Severn staying over nisfht, and not think of rid- 
ing back to Castle Marling. 

Carlvle. 

I will. dear. Now leave us. {She exits.) 
Now, Lord Mt. Severn, I will hear you. 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

Mr. Carlyle, do you possess so little honor 
that, taking advantage of my absence, you must 
intrude yourself upon my family and clandes- 
tinely marry Lady Isabelle Vane, my ward? 

Carlyle. 

Sir, there has been nothing clandestine in 
m\- conduct toward Lady Isabelle Vane, your 
niece, nor shall there be anything but honor in my 
conduct towards Lady Isabel' e Carlyle, my wife. 
Your Lordship has been misinformed. 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

I have not been informed at all. I was al- 
lowed to learn this through a public journal. 

Carlyle. 

M}- first action after Isabelle accepted me was 
to write to your Lordship asking your consent. 

Lord Mt. 'Severn. 

And prav, sir, where did vou direct your 

letter? 

30 



CarIvYle^. 

Lady Mt. Severn could not give me your ad- 
dress, as you were then traveling, but she said 
if I would entrust my letter to her care she would 
forward it to you with the one she was writing 
I did so and in a few days received a message 
from her Ladyship that as you had returned no 
answer, you of course, approved of the match. 

Lord Mt. Se:v^rn. 

Mr. Carlyle, is that a fact? 
CarIvYi^e;. 

My Lord, I am a man of truth. Until this 
moment the thought that you were ignorant of 
our marrage never occurred to me. 

Lord Mt. Silvern. 

So far, then, I ask your pardon. But how 
came the ceremony to be hurried on in this un- 
seemly fashion? 

Carlylj^. 

Business took me to Castle Marling on Good 
Friday. I called at your house. I found Lady 
Isabelle ill-treated and miserable. 

Lord Mt. Seve^rn. 

What; i'1-treated and miserable? 
Carlyi^e;. 

111-treated even to blows, my Lord. I 
learned all this through your little son. Isabelle, 
of course, would not have told me ; but when he 
had spoken she could not deny it. In short, she 
was too complete'y bowed in spirit to do so. It 
aroused all rm^ feelings of indignation. I had seen 
much of Lady Isabelle after her father's death. I 
had grown to love her. I could not see her suf- 
fer. Her sweet, beautiful nature was being 
crushed. I took courage and asked her to be my 
wife. I brought her to East Lvnne. where she 
will at least have peace and happiness. 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

You sav you love her? 



r 



CarlylE. 

I love her devotedly. Country solicitors 
have married peers' daughters before to-day. 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

But you can not keep her as a peer's daugh- 
ter. 

CarlyeE. 

East Lynne will be our home. Our estab- 
lishment will be small and quiet as compared 
with her father's. I explained this to Isabe'le 
when I asked for her hand, and she might have 
retracted had she so wished. I explained also 
in full to Lady Mt. Severn. My profession is lu- 
crative, my income good. Were I to die to-mor- 
row, Isabelle would enjoy East Lynne and about 
3,000 pounds per annum. I gave these details in 
the letter which appears to have miscarried. 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

Sir, I refused you my hand When you came 
in, perhaps you will refuse me yours now, though 
I should be proud to take it, and in my opinion 
you acted most kindly and honorably. {They 
shake hands.) 

CareyeE. 

Thank you, my Lord. Won't you honor us 
with your company for the night. We are to 
have tea, which has already been delayed. 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

If you will accept me as I am. 

CareylE. 

With pleasure. {Enter Lady Isabelle.) 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

Isabelle, I came here to-day prepared to 
strike your husband ; I go away honoring him. 

Isabelle. 

{X's to L. Ms S.) Lord Mt. Severn, you 
add much to my great happiness. I thank you. 

32 



(Corney, Barbara and Dill enter from house, 
Levison from gate.. .Barbara and Dill meet Lev- 
ison up C.) 

CarIvYlk. 

Lord Mt. Severn, this is my sister. 

Lord Mt. Seve^rn. 

Your servant, Madam. 

Corney. 

Miss, if you please. How do you do. 
(Shakes hands. Archie and Lord M. S. join L. C. 
He is presented to all. To Isabelle.( I suppose 
you will sleep late in the morning, m'am. 

Isabslive;. 

I think so, why? 

CORNEY. 

The butcher will be here at six o'clock for 
his dinner order. Will you give it to me now so 
I may tell him. 

Isabe;lle;. 

Order a dinner. (Aside.) I never ordered 
a dinner in my life. Well, then. Miss Corney, 
you may tell them we'll have something to roast 
and something to boil. 

CORNSY. 

Something to roast and something to boil. 
Are you aware that such an order would puzzle 
the butcher to know whether you desired a few 
pounds of meat or a whole cow? 

Isabella. 

A whole cow! O bless me. Miss Corney, I 
never could eat a whole cow, could you? (btis.) 
Well, then. Miss Corney, order as much meat as 
you think Archie and yourself will require. I 
don't want any. 

Corne;y. 

Lady Isabelle, if you desire it, I will give the 
necessary orders myself. 
33 



Isabella:. 

Oh; do as you please, Miss Comey. I 
wanted to ask you to do it all the while but I 
didn't want to trouble you. I don't think I know 
much about housekeeping. 

CORNEY. 

I don't think you do. Poor Archibald. 
(Comey Haunts up to the tea and cake, goes 
dozmi R and sits alone. Archie meets Isahelle C.) 

CarlylE. 

My dear, Mr. Dill has told me of a very 
worthy charity. You remember that old musi- 
cian, Mr. Kane, who tuned the piano at Castle 
Marling. 

ISABElvLE. 

Yes, indeed; poor soul, how ill he looked! 

Carlyle. 

He is quite ill now. Some of his friends are 
arranjjing a benefit concert at East Lynne Hall 
for next Friday night, and 

ISABELLE. 

And I'll be Mr. Kane's good fairy. I'll sell 
tickets. To begin with, we'll take ten. Capt. 
Levison, I'll count on you for at least five, and 
Mr. Dir 

DiEL. 

Put me down for two, Lady Isabelle. 

ISABELLE. 

Isn't it fine! The poor old man told me he 
had five Httle ones. ' The poor, dear soul. Now, 
Lord Mont Severn — how many? 

Lord Mt, Severn. 
My dear Isabelle. 

ISABEELE. 

Now, now. Uncle, you and Lady Mont Sev- 
ern can drive over from Castle Marling in state. 

34 



Just think what a treat it will be for the East 
Lynne folks. The hall wont be able to hold the 
people when they hear that Lord and Lady Mont 
Severn will be there. You'll come, wont you, 
Uncle? (bus) Now, now, you must — that's a 
dear, good guardian. 

Lord Mt. Severn. 

(Laughmg) Yes, I'll come. Put me down 
for ten. 

Isabella. 

(Joyfully) Twenty-four tickets — splendid — 
Now, Miss Hare, how many can I put you down 
fjor? (Sees necklace., stops and looks at it. 
Pause.) 

Barbara. 

{Seeing Isahclle hooking at chain, plays zvith 
it.) You may put me down for four, Lady Isa- 
belle. 

ISABELIvE. 

(Slowly.) What an odd chain. Miss Hare — 
quite pretty. 

Barbara. 

Yes, it was an oM family heirloom, I believe. 
Mr. Carlyle gave it to me — some months ago. 
(She turns to Levison, who has been watching 
them. Isabelle stands L. overcome.) 

CORNEY. 

(Rises) Archibald, come here. (He X's to 
her. ) What nonense is this ? Ten shillings for a 
few pieces of card board. You always were a 
noodle about money. She will bring you to beg- 
gary. 

Carlyle. 

(Lauglts) Nonsense, Comey. (She pouts 
and goes up on balcony. Joyce and Wilson en- 
ter and clear away tea things.) Capt. Levison, 
wont you spend the night with us ? Dinner will 
be served at eight thirty, then a smoke and a 

35 



chat. Never mind your dress, Lady Isabelle will 
forgive you this time. (Isabelle assents.) 

Levison. 

Delighted, I'm sure. 
(Change lights) (Foots down; blue cal. on.) 

Barbara. 

I must be going. Good night. Lady Isabelle. 

Isabelle. 

Good night, Miss Hare. (Barbara Xs to 
Archie. ) 

Barbara. 

Good night Archie. 

CarlylE. 

Good night, Barbara. Give my love to your 
mother. I'll see your brother to-morrow. I 
placed the handkerchief in my desk. It's a strong 
bit of evidence. Have courage. Dill, will you 
see Miss Barbara home? 

Dill. 

Yes. sir. (Barbara says good night to all; 
exits with Dill C. ) 

CarlylE. 

Corney, will you have Joyce show Lord 
Mont Severn and Capt. Levison to their rooms. 
We dine at eight thirty. 

Levison. 

If you'll permit me, I'll take a stroll and a 
smoke before dinner. 

CarlylE. 

Certainly. (Levison exits.) 

Corney. 

If you will follow me. Lord Mont Severn. 
' (Bus. He passes her into house.) Hump, more 
useless expense. (Exits.) 

36 



CARLYI.E. 

Well, darling. (Startled at her looks.) How 
tired you look. 

Isabella. 

No, no ; I'm not tired. This Hare family — 
you have known them for a long time ? 

CaRIvYLE. 

Since I was a boy. 

ISABEIvIvE. 

So long? — Don't you think Miss Hare pret- 
ty? 

CarlyIvE. 

Yes, very pretty. 

IsabellE. 

I wonder you never fell in love with her. 
(Intensely.) You never did love her, did you, 
Archie — you never did? 

CarIvYI^E. 

My darling — what's the matter? 

Is^.BELEE. 

You never cared for Barbara Hare, did you ? 

Carl,yi,E. 

Isabelle, my darling, what can have put such 
a thought in your head. I never loved but one — 
that one I made my wife. 

ISABElvIvE. 

(Breaking down and putting her arms about 
his neck, sobbing.) Archie, you don't know how 
happy you make me. I love you — you — you. 

CarlyIvE. 

My darling, I love you with all my soul. 

Joyce. 

(Enters Door R.) Miss Corney says dinner 
will be served at 8 :30. 

37 



CarlvlU. 

Thank you. We will be in the music roon 
{They go into music room through window C 
I sab ell e plays, Archie sings, "You'll Remember 
Me.") 

(Barabara Hare appears at gate C. Levison 
strolls on from R. smoking. Sees Barbara and 
steps back.) 

PICTURE. 

CURTAIN. 



38 




ACT 1 1. 

Lights— See Plot. 
Scene— See Plot. 

Music — At rise, "Traumerei." 

Bvening. 

{Isabelle at windozv hooking out. Archibald 
writing at desk. Pause; ejaculation from Isabelle. 
Archie turns.) 

CarlylE. 

What is it, dear? 

Isabelle. 

Nothing — nothing-. {Carlyle turns away. Isa- 
belle comes slowly dozvn.) I just saw Levison 
cross the lawn. How much longer is he going 
to stay here? 

Carlyle. 

Until his uncle. Sir Peter Levison, consents 
to pay his debts for him, which I hope will be in 
a few days, after which the Captain will be free 
to walk on his Majesty's dominions an unmo- 
lested man. 

TsabellE. 

I wish you had never asked him here. 

Carlyle. 

But, my dear, I could scarcely do otherwise 
after his kindness to you during your illness at 

Nice. 

39 



TSABELLE. 

And you left me there so long- alone. 

CarlylE. 

Now, my dear, don't let us recall unpleasant 
things. You know business kept me at home. 

ISABEI^LE. 

Business, business ; always business. You've 
never told me what that business was. 

Carlyi,d. 

My darling, I told you all I could — that it 
was in the interest of Barbara's brother. (Bn^ 
of turning away as if to dismiss the subject.) 

ISAEDLLD. 

(Pause.) Will there ever come a time when 
you can tell me all regarding Barbara Hare? 

CarlyIvE. 

Yes, my dear, some day. 

ISABKLLi;. 

Why not now? 

Carlyle. 

Isabelle, my dear, a lawyer, like a doctor. 
must regard all confidence as sacred. Let us 
talk of something more pleasant. 

(Wilson Enters.) 
Wilson. 

The carriage is waiting, sir. 

Carlyle. 

Has Mr. Dill come yet? 

Wilson, 

He has just come and is waiting to see you. 

CarlylE. 

Tell him I'll see him here. 

ISABELIvE. 

Are you going out, Archie? 
40 



Cari.yi,e;. 

Ye, dear, to Justice Hare's to attend to some 
important matters regarding the coming election. 
I hope to return in time to take you to Mrs. Jef- 
ferson's dinner and ball, but if not, Capt. Levison 
will escort you. By the way, my dear, you must 
not show your dislike while he is our guest. 

ISABElvIvE. 

I don't dislike him. (X's to fireplace.) 

CarlyIvE;. 

What is it then? Has he annoyed you? 

ISABEivivi;. 

No, no; it's nothing — only 

CarlyIvE;. 

Now, my darling, don't give way to those 
moods again, or I shall have to send you back to 
Nice. 

ISABElvLE. 

(Going to him.) No, no; not that; not that. 
Never send me away from you again. (Clings to 
him.) 

Carlyi^e;. 

Not so long as you are a good girl. (Kisses 
her.) Now run away to your babies. It's your 
hour with them. After I see Dill, I must be off 

ISABELIvE. 

To West Lynne? Will you see Miss Hare? 
Why can't Dill attend to the matter for you? I 
want you with me this evening so much, Archie. 

CARi.YL:e. 

Come, come now, run away to that fine boy 
of ours. You should have seen him this morn- 
ing. He held out his chubby arms to me and 
called papa. He's a great lad, my dear. (X's 
to stairs with Isabelle.) 

41 



Isabella. 

(Changing manner.) Isn't he beautiful, 
Archie ? Just as cunning as he can be. He took 
my cheeks in his chubby little hands so, (bus) 
and said, "Mamma, you are so beautiful ; as beau- 
tiful as papa." 

DlI,L. 

(Enter's L.) Good evening, Mr. Carlyle. 
Lady Isabelle, I hope I see you well. 

ISABELLK. 

Quite well, thank you, Mr. Dill. (Dill X's 
to desk R.) 

Carlyle. 

I'll be back with in the hour, my dear. 
(Kisses her, X's to desk. Dill gives papers, sits.) 

Isabelle. 

(Going up stairs.) West Lynne — always 
West Lynne. (Exit Lady Isabelle, iipstadrs ) 

Dill. 

(Taking out bank notes.) Here, sir, are 
the fifty pounds you told me to draw for Dick 
Hare's mother, and this is the letter from Dick 
accounting for his strange disappearance four 
years ago. (Archie takes letter and reads.) 

Carlyle. 

Yes, Miss Barbara has given me the full 
details. Strange! It is remarkable. Dill, how 
these villains are able to cover up their tracks. 

Dill. 

Remarkable, sir. The night you came home 
from your wedding trip he disappeared as if the 
earth had swallowed him up. 

Carlyle. 

That night I was convinced of his innocence. 
Some one in East Lynne penetrated his disguise 
and put him out of the way. Some one in the 
pay of that man Thorn. 

42 



DiLIv. 

It was a very shrewd move, sir. 

CaRIvYIvE. 

Indeed it was. This man Thorn, whoever 
he is, knew full well it was better to have him 
cut of the way than in the hands of the police. 
His testimony would have caused an investiga- 
tion and possibly conviction. 

Dill. 

I hope, sir, we'll have enough evidence soon. 
Even if Thorn is not found, Dick can then go 
free. 

CaRIvYIvE. 

I hope so, Dill. 
Dihh. 

I also brought the plaster heel cast, the piece 
of cloth from the hunting coat and this handker- 
chief. {Gives them to Archie.) 

Carlyld. 

That is a peculiar -perfume. Dill. (Taking 
articles, smells package.) Strange, Dill. (Dill 
smells it.) 

Dill. 

Quite strange, sir. 

CarlylE. 

Strange. — I've caught that odor about the 
house lately. It must be my imagination. 
(Takes package again.) Strange. (Putting 
package in desk and locking drawer.) When we 
find Thorn this will be one of the strongest links 
in the chain. (Levison enters window back of 
screen. ) 

Dill. 

This man Thorn is very clever, sir. 

CarlylE. 

Indeed he is. Dill. But murder will out, and 
I hope some day to bring him' to the scaffold, 

43 



Levison. 

(In windozv.) Indeed, Mr. Carlyle! 

Carlyle. 

Now, Dill, Fm off to West Lynne. By the 
way, no one must ever know that there is any 
monev transaction between Miss Hare and my- 
self. ' 

Dill. 

I understand, sir. 

Carlyle. 

You go to the dining room and Joyce will 
prepare you a cup of tea. 

Dill. 

{Delighted.) Thank you, sir. Miss Joyce 
makes excellent tea. {Hxit door R.) 

Carlyle. 

{Rises, X's C, meets Levison, zvJw has made 
a pretense of just coming in from zvindozv.) Ah ! 
Levison, I have good news from Sir Peter. He 
has consented to give you another chance, with 
the understanding that this is the last offense. 

Levison. 

Carlyle, it's the easiest thing in the world to 
make a promise. I assure you, Sir Peter will 
never have reason to regret giving me another 
chance. I don't know how to thank you. {Of- 
fers hand, Carlyle takes it.) 

Carlyle. 

Don't say a word, Levison. I'll take the 
will for the deed. I'm off to West Lynne. {Takes 
hat.) Make yourself at home. 

Levison. 

I will, thank you. {Archie exits.) So you 
think Thorn a clever man. Well, he is, if I do 
say so myself. (Z'.? to fire.) Well, my visit 
here has accomplished two things : Firstly, re- 
established me in the good graces of my Uncle 

44 



Peter — God bless him — when he dies — and may 
that be soon; secondly, I discovered that Miss 
Hare is playing fast and loose with Mr. Archi- 
bald Carlyle, and Isabelle is insanely jealous, and 
they are gradually drifting apart. Carlyle is 
such a good-hearted noodle he don't see what 
Miss Barbara is up to. Isabelle, I think my chance 
has come to win you back. So, Carlyle, you will 
bring Thorn to the scaffold, eh ? Well, well ; he 
may be a thorn in your side. {Corney enters — 
sees Levison Xing withofut a word.) My word, 
what a long tail our cat has got. 

CORNSY. 

Did you speak to me, sir? 

Levison. 

Only an ejaculation of admiration, my dear 
Miss Corney. 

Corne;y. 

Capt. Levison, I don't want any admiration 
or ejaculation from you, sir. 

Levison. 

My dear Miss Corney, I am so susceptible 
that when your lovely form flitted like a fairy 
across my vision, I was compelled to utter a few 
words of admiration. 

Corney. 

Capt. Levison, you are a fool. {X to L.) 

Levison. 

Don't, Miss Corney, you cut me to the heart. 

Corney. 

Insulting puppy. 

Levison. 

I wonder you never married some good man, 
Miss Corney. 

Corney. 

I never found a man good enough, sir, and 
I don't think there are any good men, judging 

45 



from the example I see before me. {Wheels are 
heard ) Now, who in the world can that be ? 

Levison. 

(Xing to iv'.ndow.) It's that charming Miss 
Hare again. 

CORNEY. 

{Going lip.) Yes, she's come to spend the 
evening with me. 

Levison. 

She seems to spend a great many evenings 
here, 

CORNEY. 

Well, Capt. Levison, she is more welcome 
than some people that I know, {X C.) 

Levison. 

I thought Carlyle just drove over to see her? 

CORNEY. 

There are other people in West Lynne for 
him to see besides Miss Hare, sir. 

Levison. 

We'l, Miss Corney, I'll take great pleasure 
in relieving you of my detested presence. 

Corney, 

{Mock courtesy.) The pleasure is all mine, 
Capt. Levison. (Levison repeats bus. and exits 
zvindozv C.) (Barbara enters door L, Corney C.) 
Thank goodness, Barbara, you came. I'm just 
beside myself. That insinuating Levison gets so 
on my nerves. He just left me. I can hardly 
keep my hands off him. (Bus.) (Enter Isabelle, 
daivn R, rather excited.) 

[SABELLE, 

Good evening. Miss Hare, 

Barbara. 

Good evening, Lady Isabelle, 

46 



Isabella. 

Miss Corney, may I speak alone to you ? 

CORNEY. 

Yes {shortly). Barbara, you go to the liv- 
ing room. It's good of you to come over and 
help me. I'll be with you in a few moments. 
{Barbara exits L.) 

ISABthht. 

{Aside. Archie could not have gone to see 
her this time.) Why was it necessary to have 
Miss Hare come to help you? What is she to 
do? 

Corney. 

There is all that linen to hem and repair. 
I asked you to help me a few days ago. 

ISABtLLt. 

I engaged a seamstress to do the work, Miss 
Corney. 

Corney. 

Such extravagance — I sent her away. 

ISABEEIvE. 

So I understand from Joyce. That reminds 
me of what I wanted to speak to you about. You 
also countermanded the order for little Isabelle's 
new frock. 

Corney. 

I did, Lady Isabelle. She no more requires a 
new frock than I do. Lord knows, I have 
enough. 

Isabelle. 

Miss Corney, I am the best judge of what 
my children and myself require and in the future 
you will please not alter any arrangements I 
may make, andfurthermore, I don't care to have 
the neighbors called in to do work for which we 
are well able to pay. 

Corney. 

Able to pay you'll be sorry for not listen- 

47 



ing to me when your husband is brought to beg- 
gary. Archie works like a horse now and with 
B.V. my striving to save, can hardly keep expenses 
down. {Angrily leave the room L.) 

ISABELLE. 

{With almost a cry) What am I in my own 
house? Nothing. And this woman — this Bar- 
bara Hare — always here, or Archie with her. 
This woman shall not come between us. I must 
have his love. I must have peace or I shall go 
mad. 

LEvison. 

{Enters from garden. He has a large red 
rose.) Lady Isabelle, this is the first time I've 
seen you to-day. 

"LEVTSON. 

{Recovering.) Good evening, Captain! 

JLSASELLE.' 

I just picked this beautiful rose. Will you 
accept it? 

ISABEE. 

Thank you. Captain. {Takes rose.) It's 
very pretty, 

Levison. 

This is a beautiful evening, Isabelle. Do you 
remember the evening, Isabelle, such a one as 
this, we all passed at Richmond, your father, 
Mrs. Vane, you, I and the others? 

Isabelle. 

Yes, I remember it well. The two Miss 
Challoners were with us. We had passed a very 
pleasant day. You drove Mrs. Vane home and I 
went with poor papa. 

Levison. 

You remember, I drove recklessly and Mrs. 
Vane declared I should never drive her again, 
which meant until the next time. Of all the 
capricious, vain, exacting women, Emma Vane 
was the worst. She was a systematic flirt, noth- 

48 



ing better. I drove her recklessly on purpose to 
put her in a fright and pay her off. 

Pay her off? Why, what had she done? 

Levison. 

Put me in a rage; saddle herself on me 
when she knew I desired another companion. 

ISABElvLE. 

Oh, yes ; I remember — Blanche Challoner. 

Levison. 

Blanche Challoner. {Laughs.) No, Lady 
Isabelle, it was not Blanche. You might have 
made a better guess at that time. 

IsABEIvIvE. 

I don't understand you. 

Levison. 

The past is gone and cannot be recalled. We 
have both played our cards like simpletons. If 
ever two beings were formed to love each other, 
you and I were. I sometimes thought you read 
my feelings. 

ISABEELE. 

Read your feelings? 

Levison. 

Lady Isabelle, but a few words, and then I 
am silent forever. I would have declared my- 
elf then, but my debts, my uncertain position, 
my inability to keep a wife, crushed my hopes 
and so I suffered you to escape me, 

ISABEEEE. 

Capt. Levison. 

Levison. 

One moment, I pray. I have long wished 
you to know why I lost you, a loss that tells upon 
me yet, but I did not know how passionately I 
loved you until you became the wife of another. 

49 



Isabella. 

Stop ! Stop ! You must not speak to me in 
this way. 

Levison. 

What I have said can do no harm now, the 
time has gone by. We have each chosen our 
paths in Hfe and must abide by them. The gulf 
between us is impassable, but the fauH was mine. 
I ought to have avowed my affection for you and 
not suffered you to throw yourself away on 
Mr. Carlyle. 

Isabella. 

Throw myself away on my husband. I 
married him of my own choice and have never 
since regretted it. 

Levison. 

You love your husband? 

ISABELLE. 

I love my husband! (Goes up to stairs. 
Levison X. R. slight patise.) 

Levison. 

Don't go — (Pause. Bus.)Vorget what I 
have said and let me continue to be as I have al- 
ways been, a friend, a brother, endeavoring to be 
of service to you in the absence of Mr. Carlyle. 

ISABELLE. 

It is what I have suffered you to be, looking 
upon you in the light of a friend — a 
relative; not otherwise would I have permitted 
your incessant companionship ; and thus it has 
repaid me. My husband, whom you would de- 
preciate in my eyes, has sheltered you and 
screened you from the law. He has thanked you 
for your attention to me. 

Levison. 

I ask your pardon. T^ady Isabelle. I have ac- 
knowledged my fault ; I cannot do more, but 

50 



there are moments when our heart's dearest feel- 
ings must break through the conventionaUties of 
life and betray themselves, in spite of our sober 
judgment. 

ISABEI-.LE. 

If you ever presume so again, I shall go 
directly to my husband. 

Levison. 

I shall not forget myself again, Lady Isabelle. 
{Bu^ ) By the way, I met Miss Hare as she 
came in this evening. She grows prettier every 
day. She comes here quite often, does she not? 

Isabe;i.i.k. 

Yes, as a guest of Miss Corney's, I believe. 

Levison. 

I think Miss Hare shows very bad taste in 
being so persistent. {Isabelle turns.) I don't 
mean exactly that, but after four years it seems 
to me. — Well, Isabelle, as a relative, I think I've 
a right to speak. There is considerable gossip in 
the village about her visits here and Carlyle and 
she are seen so much together that I would ad- 
vise you to speak to Archie on the subject. {Isa- 
belle kais been tearing the rase to bits.) {Seeing 
this.) My poor little rose. You have torn it to 
bits. {Isabelle rises, X's to -fireplace: Levison 
ASIDE, going up.) There never was a passion, 
never will be one, so fantastic, so delusive, so 
powerful as jealousy. {Drums lightly on piano.) 

ISAEEl^IvE. 

Even the wagging tongues of the village 
gossips are at work. Where will it end? I 
can't bear it. I must have some one to advise me. 
Lord Mont Severn shall come to me at once. 
{Goes to desk back of screen and \writes.) 

Levison. 

{Leaves piano.) I think the green-eyed 
monster is at work. {Bxit C.) 

{Enter Wilson an\d Joyce R. zvith Hozvers in 
baskets.) 

51 



Wilson. 

What a silly notion of Mr. Carlyle's to have 
these vases filled every evening with fresh flow- 
ers. 

Joyce. 

And why not, pray? Lady Isabelle is very 
fond of flowers. 

Wilson. 

I say, Joyce, don't you think she looks very 
ill? — My lady, I mean. My goodness, wouldn't 
somebody's hopes be raised again if anything was 
to happen. 

Joyce. 

Oh, nonsense; what stuff! 

Wilson. 

You may say nonsense as much as you like, 
but they would ; she'd snap him up to a dead 
certainty. She'd never let him escape her a sec- 
ond time. She is just as much in love with him 
as ever. 

Joyce. 

That's all rubbish. Mr. Carlyle never cared 
for her. 

Wilson. 

That's more than you know. I've seen him 
kiss her and he gave her that locket and chain 
she wear about her neck, and I'm sure she never 
parts with it. 

Joyce. 

How terribly stupid she must be. 

Wilson. 

And that's not all. I saw them one evening 
many months ago when I lived at Miss Hare's 
house. She always steals out to the gate when 
she thinks it is about time for Mr. Carlyle to 
pass on his way to and from his office on purpose 
to have a sly chat with him. Well, this evening, 
I crept down behind the hedges and then I heard 

52 



all they were saying. She was crying bitterly, 
and then I heard Mr. Carlyle tell her that in the 
future he could be only a dear brother to her; 
and then I saw him kiss her. 

Joyce. 

Then she's a downright fool to go crying 
about a man that never cared for her. 

W11.SON. 

But she does so yet, and so I say if anything 
was to happen now, Miss Barbara, as sure as fate 
would step into her shoes. {Isabeile exits dozvn 
R.) 

Joyce. 

Wilson, have the goodness to recollect your- 
self. 

Wilson. 

Well, what have I said now? Nothing but 
the truth. If anything was to happen now 

Joyce. 

Wilson, if you think to pursue this sort of 
topic at East Lynne, I will inform my lady that 
you are not fit for the situation. 

Wilson. 

Then you'll miss the best chance of your 
life. 

Joyce. 

Why! What's that? 

Wilson. 

Becoming my wife. 

Joyce. 

You're a fool, Wilson. I never even thought 
of such a thing. 

Wilson. 

But I have. Come, give me a kiss to seal 
the bargain. {Attempts to kiss her.) (Joyce 
gives him a sound smuck on the cheek.) 

53 



Joyce:. 

Get out of here, you fresh young booby. 
{She grabs up a hook and chases him out L. 
He bump's into Dill, zvho is just entering.) The 
idea — the impudent upstart. 

What's the matter, Miss Joyce? 

Joyce. 

What do you think that fresh young puppy 
did — he asked me to marry him, and then tried 
to kiss me. Why, I'll — I'll — (starts to go.) 

Dll,!,. 

Don't blame the youth for betraying the pas- 
sion of a beating heart. Joyce, you know none 
of us are too old to feel the tender passion, (bus.) 
Love throbs even within my old breast, Joyce. 
In fact, that's what brought me here this after- 
noon. 

Joyce. 

(Laughs.) You, Mr. Dill? Oh, how funny. 

Dill. 

Don't laugh, my dear Joyce. This feeling 
of love has been gnawing at my old, dried-up 
heart for days. I feel like a boy again. You 
see, I'm not so old, only 68, just the prime of 
life. At night in my dream I can see your sweet 
face before me. Oh, my dear Joyce, it's like 
drinking the water of everlasting life. 

Joyce. 

(Who has been staring at him.) Who in 
the world could have made your heart rattle like 
that, Mr. Dill ? 

Dill. 

Oh, Joyce, you see before you a man of 
years (falls 'On his knees) one who has never 
loved before, one who (Corney enters from R. 
Isabellc dozvn L. Dill falls upon Iiis hands, as if 

54 



looking for something.. Joyce runs off center, 

laughing.) 

CORNEY. 

Well, you old fool, what are you doing there ? 

Dill. 

(Confused.) We'l, you see, Miss Corney — 
well, you see. Miss Joyce dropped a pin and I 
was looking for it. 

Corney. 

Get up, don't stop here. Here' a pin, now 
go along, you old idiot, and give her that. 

Dill. 

(Very much confused.) Thank you, Miss 
Corney (backing up stage) I'm sure Miss Joyce 
needs it very much, and I'll — 

Corney. 

Out with you. (Dill runs out.) (Isahelle 
comes in R.) 

ISABELLE. 

Miss Corney, will you ask Miss Hare to step 
here a moment? 

Corney. 

What on earth do you want of Miss Hare? 
She's busy. 

ISABELLE. 

Will you please do as I ask you ? 
Corney. 

(Bus.) The first thing I know I'll be a com- 
mon servant. (Bxits.) 

ISABELLE. 

This woman's visits must cease, now and 
for all time. I thought I would scream out when 
those two servants were talking. The gossip of 
the village, the common talk of servants. (Bar- 
bara enters.) 

Barbara. 

You sent for me, Lady Isabelle? 

55 



Isabella. 

(Pause.) Yes, Miss Hare. I will come di- 
rectly to the point. Your visits to this house 
must cease. 

Barbara. 
Why? 

Isabella. 

Because I desire it. 

Barbara. 

That is hardly a sufficient reason, Lady Isa- 
belle. I come here as a guest of Miss Corney. 

ISABELLE. 

Miss Corney is not the mistress here — I am. 
You were in love with my husband before I 
married him. For the past four years you have 
been a contant visitor here; you have been a 
constant visitor at my husband's office. It has 
become common' village gossip that the old inti- 
macy between you and Mr. Carlyle is reviving. 
I have good and sufficient reasons to believe you 
are trying to win my husband's love from me. 

Barbara. 

My visits to your husband have been on a 
matter of business. 

ISABEELE. 

Aye, — ^business — ^business — that's just it, but 
that excuse does not satisfy me. You must dis- 
continue your visits to this house. 

Barbara. 

And if I refuse, Lady Isabelle? 

IsabellE. 

Then I shall find means to compel you to 
do so. 

Barbara. 

By creating a scandal? 

Isabelle. 

The scandal has been already created. That 

56 



chain you wear about your neck, you show it 
about the village a a gift from Mr. Carlyle, and 
as once belonging to me. Once for all, will you 
leave this house and never enter it again? (En- 
ter Lemson.) 

Barbara. 

No; I will not, and as for loving your hus- 
band, I had as much right to love him as you had. 
I shall always love him, and I shall continue to 
come here until he asks me to stay away. ( Takes 
chain off and throzvs it 1>o the floor.) 

(Levis on enters in time to see this bus.) 

Lb^vison, 

(Comes C quick ^ picks up chain.) Poor lit- 
tle chain ; who is its owner ? 

(Barbara takes chain; exit L. Isahelle bus.) 

Li;visoN. 

Isabelle, I can't see you suffer like this — a 
moment ago when I spoke of my love for you, 
which has never died, and when I see you suffer 
so much — Isabelle forgive me — I can't restrain 
myself. 

ISABElLIvi;. 

Dont' — don't — leave me alone. 
IvE;vison. 

Isabe'le, listen to me. This man is unworthy 
of you. He never loved you. He married you 
out of pity — or worse, to satisfy his ambition — 
you the daughter of Lord Mont Severn. 

Isabe;ixe. 

You don't know what you are saying. My 
husband loves me. It's that woman trying to 
drag him from me. 

L^iVISON. 

Isabelle — I don't know what I'm saying — on 
the day of my arrival here I saw your husband 
give her money. The day you spent at Castle 
Marling — they had been alone together for some 
time. 

57 



ISABELLE. 

(With a suppressed scream) What! 

Levison. 

I swear it to you. Isabelle, every word I've 
spoken is the truth. I've held my peace because 
I knew you loved this man, unworthy as he is. 

Isabelle. 

(Turning) I can't believe my husband is 
false to me. 

Levison. 

Isabelle, hear me. Will you remain here until 
your heart is torn from your breast, your name 
drag-ged in the dust of public scandal. 

Isabelle. 

What shall I do? What shall I do? 

Levison. 

Come with me. My love is too g'reat, too 
big, to cast you aside at this time when you 
need protection. Come; we'll go to some quiet 
spot far away. There you will find peace and 
rest. Come. 

Isabelle. 

(IVho has hardly heard the last speech — 
looking straight before her.) If you can prove 
my husband false to me I leave this house for- 



Levison. 

Isabelle. (About to take her into his m-ms 
zuhen Archie's voice is heard.) 

CarlylE. 

All right. Dill ; I'll see you in a few mo- 
ments. (Outside.) 

Levison. 

Your husband. (Isabelle has dropped into 
chair L. Has not noticed Archie's voice.) 



58 



Carlyi.1:. 

(Mnfer door R.) Ah, Levison, just the man. 
Fve an important call at the office, which pre- 
vents my taking Lady Isabelle to the dinner and 
ball this evening". Will you be her escort? 

Le;vison, 

With pleasure. I'll be with you in a mo- 
ment. 

Good. {Levison exits.) Well, Isabelle — why 
what's the matter? 

Isabe;lle. 

(Rises and' comes t>o him C. and take his 
hands into hers.) Look at me, Archie. Has 
there ever been one thought of love that has not 
been for me, me alone? 

ISABElvLE. 

My darling. (Tries to piit his arms about 
her.) 

Isabella. 

No, no — Archie — Look at me — tell me — has 
there ? 

CARI.YI.E;. 

Isabelle, my child, how many times must I 
assure you of that. What else can I do to prove 
it? 

ISABElIvIvi;. 

I'll tell you what you can do. Ask Barbara 
Hare never to come to this house again. 

CarIvYI,!;. 

But, my dear 

ISABELIwE. 

Oh, Archie, I can't stand it any longer. Her 
visits here have become the gossip of the village, 
the talk of the servants. You must stop them. 

Carlyi.1;. 

Isabelle, I had not thought any one could mis- 
construe her visits to me. 

59 



ISABDivLE. 

I know, I know ; I hear it here, there, every- 
where — "She's trying to win his love," "If Lady 
Isabelle dies, she'll step into her shoes." Oh, Ar- 
chie, my heart's breaking. 

Carlyle. 

Calm yourself, my darling. (Taking her to 
sofa — sits.) 

Isabelle. 

You will, Archie — you will ask her not to 
come here again. 

CarlylE. 

Yes, darling, I will. 

Isabelle. 

And Archie, if anything should ever happen 
to me, if I should die, you wont — marry her — 
Archie ? 

CarlylE. 

Don't talk of such things, Isabelle. 

Isabelle. 

I must. I can't bear the thought of that 
woman coming here, being with my children. 
Promise me you will never marry her when I'm 
gone. 

CarlylE. 

Why, my dear, I have never thought of such 
a thing. 

Isabelle. 

And you'll ask Barbara Hare not to come 
here again? 

CarlylE. 

Yes, I'll ask her today. 

Isabelle. 

Thank you, Archie. Love me — closer — 
closer. 

{Levison enters. PAUSE.) 

I'm sorry to disturb you, but Fm ready. 

60 



CaRLYIvE. 

Now, Isabelle, go enjoy yourself, and don't 
think any more of this' matter. 

I will, Ai-chie. Come, Capt. Levison. 
(Kisses Archie.) (They go up to zvindow, Isa- 
belle passes out. Archie has gone to desk R. Levi- 
son has paused to put on his coat. Barbara en^ 
ters. Levison touches Isabelle on the arm, she 
turns, starts back into room. Levison stops her. 
They step down out of sight of window.) 

CarlyIve;. 

(Turning, sees Barbara.) Why, Barbara, 
I didn't know you were here. I was just writing 
you an important note (X C). Barbara, circum- 
stances have arisen which compel me to ask you 
not to come here again. (Barbara starts.) Lady 
Isabelle is not well, and she has for some unknown 
reason grown insanely jealous of you. I could 
not tell her the real reason of your visits. She 
of course knew I was in some way connected 
with your brother's case, but only vaguely. (Bar- 
bara sinks on couch.) Barbara, what is it? 

Barbara. 

Archibald Carlyle, you can ask me that? 
You i<new I loved you. 

Carlyle;. 
No, no. 

Barbara. 

Yes, yes, Archie; I have loved you all these 
years. I did not think you loved her. I thought 
you married her out of pity. 

Carlyle;. 

Stop, Barbara. 

Barbara. 

I was content to be near you, and wait, hop- 
ing that ome day 

Carlyle. 

Barbara, dear child ; I never lead you to be- 
lieve I loved you. 

6i 



Barbara. 

Who was m\- constant companion? Who 
gave me this, with a lock of hair in it, once the 
property of Lady Isabelle? What else could I 
think ? 

CarlylE. 

It was onlv a brother's place I was trying' 
to fill. 

Barbara. 

A brother — a fine distinction. Archie. It 
was love I thought, love I wanted ; love I was 
willing to wait for. Oh, Archie — Archie. {She 
breaks dozvn; he puts his anrts about hey Levi- 
son and Isabelle appear at zmtdow.) (Bus.) 

Carlyle. 

Isabelle was right ; you must never come here 
again. All our business must be transacted by 
Dill in the future. 

Barbara. 

Archie, Archie. (Sobbing.) 
Carlyli:. 

Yes', Barbara, that is best. By the way, here 
is the money I promised your mother to send to 
Dick. I hope in a few days to have sufficient evi- 
dence to enable him to give himself up. Then 
freedom again. 

Barbara. 

(Takes money.) Archie, can you forgive 
me? I could not contain myself after what had 
happened. 

Carlyle. 

I am more than sorry, dear, but I under- 
stand, and it's all for the best. Come, I'll walk 
to the gate with you. (Puts his arm about her 
and supports h^ out door R. As they e.vit Isa- 
belle and Leznson entey.) 

ISABELLi;. 

It's true — it's true. How he lied to me. 
62 



Looked into my eyes — lied, lied — Took her into 
his arms — gave her money. Sent me away with 
you, so he could be alone with her. Capt. Levi- 
son, what does marriage mean? 

LievisoN. 

I'm not quite sure, but it's a very pleasant 
arrangement for a man. 

ISABElLIvE. 

Yes! Yes! Yes! for the man. That's it— 
for a man, but what of the woman? What is 
she? The plaything, the doll, to be dressed up, 
pitied, petted and betrayed by the man, be the 
mother of his children. What's that some one 
said, "Marriage is the haven of love, a beautiful 
rest." Mine has not been that. My husband has 
betrayed me. Does he expect me to turn the 
other cheek? No, no, no. I will pay him back 
in his own coin. It shall be an eye for an eye 
and a tooth for a tooth. 

LEvison. 

Isabelle, there is a beautiful rest, a haven of 
love, still left for you — with me. Come away 
from this tainted atmosphere with me. I love 
you Isabelle. I love you with all my soul. Will 
you come? 

Isabelle;. 

Yes', yes, take me away. Take me away. 

Levison. 
Come. 

Isabelle. 

Wait. (Goes to desk and writes.) When 
years go on and my children ask where their 
mother is and why she left them, tell them that 
you, their father, goaded her to it. If they in- 
quire what she is, tell them also, if you will, but 
tell them at the same time that you outraged and 
betrayed her, driving- her to the depths of des- 
peration ere she quitted them in despair. I saw 
you take that woman in your arms. I saw you 
give her money. I have gone to find that love I 

63 



so long for in you. I've gone with Capt. Levi- 
son. (Rings bell, Wilson enters.) Give this to 
Mr. Carlyle as soon as he comes in. (Levison at 
zvindow. Wilson exits doors L.) Now, Capt. 
Levison, I'm ready. {As she goes up she fal- 
ters, he catches her and they exit quickly at 
hack.) 

CORNEY. 

(Enters, X to window, sees them Xing 
lawn.) Lady Isabelle makes such a fuss over Bar- 
bara Hare, she had better look out for her own 
character, galavantin about with that Levison, 

Joyce. 

Where's my Lady? Little Isabelle is going 
to bed and wants her good night kiss from her 
mother. 

(Carlyle enters down L.) 

CORNEY. 

Archie ! 

Carlyle. 

Well, Corney? 

CORNEY. 

What in the world do you mean by letting 
your wife go trarpsing about with Francis Levi- 
son? 

Carlyle. 

I asked Capt. Levison to escort her, as I had 
ati important business engagement. 

Corney. 

Where is she going? 

Carlyle. 

To a dinner and ball at Mrs. JeflFerson's. 

Willie. 

(Willie runs on L in night dress. Calling. — 
Mamma, Mamma. (Joyce follozving. Wil- 
lie goes to Archie.) Wilson enters R.) 

64 



WlIvSON. 

My Lady left this note, sir. 
Cari^yIvE;. 

Just a moment, Willie — 
(Carlyle reads note—staggers back into chair.) 

CORNEY. 

Why, Archie, what is it? 

CarlyIvE;. 

My God! She's gone. 

Corni^y. 
. Gone! What do you mean? 

Carlyle. 

She has eloped with Capt. Levison. 

Corney. 

The disgraceful, miserable, unworthy 

Carlyee. 

Hush, Corney — not one word, not one word 
against the mother of my children. (Takes baby 
in arms.) 

CURTAIN. 



65 




ACT III. 

Scene. — See Plot. 

Lights.— See Plot. . 

Two years elapse. 
Music Monastery Bells. Until curtain is 
well up. 

(Isabelle discovered at fireplace L in a 
large arm chair, reading letter.) 

My dear Isabelle my reasons for not returning' 
to you as agreed are simple enough. My Uncle, 
Sir Peter Levison is dead and, it is necessary 
that I should remain here until the estate is settled 
up. Will see you as soon as convenient. Ever 
yours, Sir Francis Levison — Sir Francis Levison 
. — Its near four months since he left me here, and 
alone. Dear God, to what depths of depravity 
have I sunken. {Tears up letter, puts it into 
■fire). What is to be the end of my sufferings? 
How much longer can I bear this torture of mind, 
this never dying anguish of soul? From what 
dreams have I awakened. I have sacrificed hus- 
band, home, children, friends and all that makes 
life of value to a woman — and for what? To be 
forever an outcast from society, to never again 
know a moment's peace Oh, that I could die, 
and end my sufferings and misery. {Bell rings 
outside. Isabelle rises X's to R door slams. Lev- 
son's voice is heard.) 

66 



LuvisoN (out side.) 

No. I can find my way in. 

ISABELLF,. 

Levison. This must be the end of it all. 

Levison. 

(Enters C.) How do you do, Isabelle. (She 
does not speak) takes off glove, coat and hat, 
looks in glass, comes C, offers hand). Glad to 
see you looking" so well. (She refuses hand. 
He X's to fireplace.) It's chilly inside as well as 
out. (Bus. at fire). 

(Who has been standing at tctble R. Sir 
Francis Levison. 

Levison. 

Thank you, Lady Isabelle. for the title. It's 
the first time I've heard it since my arrival in this 
blasted country. 

Isabelle;. 

Why did you come now? 

Levison. 

Why did I come? That's a nice question to 
ask a man who has traveled so far in this damned 
nasty weather. I thought you would be pleased 
to see me. 

Isabelle. 

Sir Francis Levison. (Pause.) I am glad 
to see you for one reason. That we may come 
to an understanding, direct and final, 

Levison. 

What do you mean ? 

Isabelle. 

Let there be plain truth between us now, if 
there never was before, naked honest truth. 

67 



Levison. 

With all my heart. (Rises and leans on 
mantel) . 

ISABELLE. 

(Comes C). When you left me last July 
you gave me a sacred promise to be back in time 
for our marriage. You know what I mean by IN 
TIME. 

Levison. 

(Lighting a cigarette. X's R.) I wrote you 
why I could not come. My uncle's estate had to 
be settled up, and — 

ISABELLE. 

That is an excuse, Sir Francis. There is to 
be nothing but naked truth. No evasions. 

Levison. 

(Drop's', into cha^' R.) Quite right, my 
dear — the naked truth by all means. 

ISABELLE. 

(After an effort). Why did you not marry 
me before you went away ? 

Levison. 

(With a laugh.) Well, you see, Isabelle, out 
of consideration of my family I could hardly 
make the sacrifice of marrying a divorced woman, 

Isabelle. 

Sacrifice, Sir Francis Levison. I did not 
wish this marriage for my sake, but for the sake 
of my child, and now his inheritance must be that 
of sin and shame. (Goes R. a little). 

Levison. 

Tut, tut, my dear, don't take on so, it will all 
come out right. 

Isabelle. 

Did I not ask you once what was the mean- 
ing of "marriage?" 

68 



lyEVISON. 

Yes, indeed, and what an argument you 
made against it. It was really fine, my dear. 

ISABEJLLE. 

And pray God I may never have cause to re- 
peat it, Sir Francis Levison. Were you here now 
for the purpose of making me your wife, were the 
clergyman standing by to perform that service 
now, I would not permit it. I can imagine any 
fate in life better than being compelled to pass it 
with you. (Is overcome and sinks in chair L.) 

Le;vison. 

If you have taken this aversion to me, it 
cannot be helped, but how could you, Isabelle, dear 
{Laughing Bits with moustache). You made 
fuss enough once, about my making reparation 
{rises). 

All the reparation that is in your power to 
make, all the reparation the world could invent, 
cannot undo my sin. It is as indelible as the hand 
of God. 

Levison. 

Oh, pshaw. Sin. {Laughs). Splendid. 
Really, Isabelle, I didn't think it was in you, but 
you women should think about these things be- 
fore. 

ISABElvIvE. 

I pray heaven they may. May God help all 
who are tempted as I was. 

Levison. 

If you mean that as a reproach to me, it's 
rather out of place. The temptation to sin lay 
not in my persuation half so much as in your 
ridiculous jealous anger against your husband. 

ISABElvI/E. 

Quite true. Quite true. 
69 



Levison. 

With regard to your husband and that Hare 
girl, you were bHndly, outrageously jealous. 

ISABELLE. 

Go on. Go on, 

Levison. 

For my part, I don't believe Carlyle ever 
thought of the girl in the way you imagine he 
did. 

ISABELLE. 

What do you mean ? 

Levison. 

There was some secret connected with the 
Hare family and Carlyle was acting privately for 
Mrs. Hare. 

ISABELLE. 

What secret? 

Levison. 

I cannot tell. They did not take me into 
their confidence. The old girl, I believe, was too 
ill to attend to the matter herself, so she sent 
Barbara. 

ISABEELE. 

You told a different tale, then — (bus.) 

Levison. 

I know I did. That was merely my strata- 
gem. All things are fair in love and war. 
By the by, what have you named the young ar- 
ticle there? (Points to cradle.) 

ISABELLE. 

The name which ought to have been his by 
inheritance, Francis Levison. 

Levison. 

What does he look like? Anything like my 
handsome self? (Bus. at glass.) 

70 



I-SABBLLE. 

If he did — if he were like you in thought or 
in spirit — I would pray to heaven that he might 
die before he spoke. 

Levison. 

Anything else? I would advise you to be 
careful how you deal out your small change. You 
may get it back with interest. Is my room pre- 
pared ? 

ISABELI.E. 

You have no room here. These apartments 
are rented to me in my own name now. They 
can no longer afford you shelter. I received these 
from you one months ago. {Takes package of 
bank notes from box on table.) Forty pounds, 
count them. Are they all right? Because I wish 
to return them to you. I wish all to end between 
us. 

Levison. 

No, no, no. 
Isabella. 

Yes, yes, yes. 
Levison. 

If it be your wish that all relation between us 
should cease, why, so be it. Remember, though, 
its your own doings, not mine, but you cannot 
suppose I will allow you to starve. A sum will 
be placed at your disposal to your credit half- 
yearly. 

Isabella. 

Capt. Levison ! Not a penny. 
Levison. 

Why, how can you live? You must receive 
assistance from someone. 

ISABEEEE. 

But not from you. If I had no means of liv- 
lihood, if I could receive no help from strangers, 
if the whole world denied me, I'd go and ask my 



husband for bread, sooner than accept one farth- 
ing from yon. 

Levison. 

Bless us, how bitter. Oh, yes, I know your 
husband, a very generous man. Its a pity you left 
him, though. {Isabelle X's to R. bus.) 

IvEVISON. 

Now, my dear, don't be foolish. That child 
must have some little allowance to buy cigarettes 
with when he gets old enough, and I wish to r 

Isabi;i<i,e;. 

Take care — take care ! ( Vehemently.) 
Levison. 

How really magnificent you are when you're 
angry. I've a great mind to try and win you 
back. Now, my dear, I will leave this amount 
here and will rnake a yearly settlement on the 
boy, which will avoid any personal appeal for 
money on your part. 

Isabella. 

Go! Go! Go! 
Levison. 

Just one moment, dearest. Will you accept 
this money? 

ISABELIvE. 

(Picks up money, tears it up and throws to 
Uaor.) No. {X's L.) No — no — go — 

Levison, 

See here, Mrs. Carlyle. (Starts towards her. 
She turns.) 

ISABELIvE. 

Don't you dare. 
Levison. 

Yes, I do dare. You have driven me to des- 
peration. I thought you weak and would accept 
my money ; I find that I am mistaken. Now, as 
you said — we'll get down to naked truth. What 
I want is you silence. 

72 



My silence? 

Le;vison. 

Yes, your silence. Damn the day that brat 
was born. Now, as Sir Francis Levison I have 
a position to sustain. 

ISABElvIvE. 

Well. 
Levison. 

I could rid myself of you and the world 
would think none the less of me. 

ISABthl,t. 

(Laughs.) Yes, that's it. The world thinks 
none the less of the man who robs woman of 
all — all. But the woman must be sacrificed, and 
goes down — down. 

Levison. 

We will not enter into a moral discussion. 
You see, Lady Isabelle, I may wish to marry, and 
if my fiance should hear of that brat — women are 
such damned sentimental idiots — it might be my 
undoing. 

Isabella. 

What do you want? (Pause.) 

Levison. 

Your promise never to enter my life again. 

ISABEEEE. 

And if I refuse 

Levison. 

Then I'll rid myself of you and find means 
to silence that brat forever. (Makes a move to- 
wards cradle.) 

ISABEEEE. 

You touch that child and I'll throttle you 
with my bare hands. (Pause.) Capt. Levison, 
you have robbed me of all this life held dear to 

73 



me, and for my sin I must suffer. The only hopje 
I have is to make expiation through this child — 
a child without a name — and before you touch 
that baby you'll have to kill me. 

Levison. 

See here, Isabelle, don't get theatrical — you 
may regret it. 

Isabella. 

I have much to regret, Capt. Levison. It's a 
great game, Capt. Levison — this game of life. 
You have played your last card. I hold the next 
best play. I love this baby with all the love of a 
dying soul. If you will leave me now and for- 
ever I promise never to cross your life again. 

Levison. 

Now, you're talking- sense. (Isabelle sinks 
by cradle. Levison makes a movement towards 
cradle; Isabelle rises.) (He oifers hand.) Good- 
bye. 

ISABEI.I.E. 

Go. 

Levison. 

Very well. That promise is as sacred as — 

ISABELIvE. 

As my love for this baby and my God. 

Levison. 

Good — good. (Offers hand again.) I can 
see no reason for prolonging this delightful inter- 
view. Day, day. (Goes^, gets coat and hat, mir- 
ror bus. and exits, singing "We Never Speak as 
We Pass By." Isabelle goes to the door and 
locks iA Goes back to cradle.) 

Isabelle. 

I am bowed down by the weight of my own 
sin and shame. Oh, if I could wake and find it 
all a terrible dream, that I could once more find 
myself at East Lynne with my husband and chil- 

74 



dren about me, a happy, contented mother; but 
no, no ; it cannot be ; and I must bear the conse- 
quences of my sin forever. (Knock at door.) 
Levison has returned (knock). Who's there? 

Mt. Severn. 

It is I, Isabelle. 

Isabel. 

Lord Mt. Severn ! No, no ! I can't let him 
see me in my disgrace. (Goes to door.) 

Mt. Severn. 

Let me in, Isabelle. 

ISABELEE. 

No — you must not ; my punishment is great 
enough without your reproach. Go! Go J 

Mt. Severn. 

No, Isabelle, I did not come to reproach — 
only to help you. Let me in. 

ISABEEEE. 

(Slowly opens door.) (Mt. Severn enters; 
she turns away.) Don't look at me. I have 
brought disgrace enough upon your name. (X's 
and sits in chair R.) 

Mt. Severn. 

Isabelle, my child, I've been searching for you 
for the last five weeks. I found you by following 
Sir Francis Levison. How could you do what 
you did — you have broken a noble man's heart. 

Isabelle. 

I know — I know — I thought he loved an- 
other. Levison, knowing my jealousy, did all in 
his power to convince me that my husband loved 
Barbara Hare. I listened — I fell — and you see 
before you the result of that monster — ^Jealousy. 
(XL.) 

Mt. Severn. 

I warned you against Levison, I just saw 
him leave the house. He has been here with you ? 

75 



Isabella. 

Yes ; they think I'm his wife. 

Mt. Severn. 

(Seeing cradle, X's to it. Turns.) {I sab elk, 
realising J turns away.) There was a child? 

ISABELLE. 

Yes. {SifiKS by the fireplace.) 

Mt. Severn. 

The damned scoundrel! {Going C.) Isa- 
belle, how utterly you have lost yourself. 

ISABELIvE. 

(Partly turning.) Oh, Uncle, my punish- 
ment is great enough. Don't, I beg of you; I 
can't bear it. 

Mt. Severn. 

(Xing to her.) Isabelle. my child, I know. 
(Raising her and Xing R She sits R.) How 
do you propose to live? 

Isabelle. 

I have some money. 

Mt. Severn. 

Levison's money? 

Isabelle. 

No, I shall never see him again. I have sold 
some jewelry, and what is left will answer until 
I'm able to find something I can do. 

Mt. Severn. 

Isabelle, I will make you an allowance. 

Isabelle. 

No; I cannot accept anything from you. 

Mt. Severn. 

My child, you have made a great sacrifice — 
a husband's love, the love and companionship of 
your children. Your suffering will be great 
enough without adding poverty to your folly. 

76 



Isabella. 

I must pay its penalty. No, no. I have lost 
all claim to assistance. I shall find a position as 
governess as soon as possible. 

Mt. Severn. 

Isabelle, I stand in your father's place. On 
my return to England I will place 400 pounds a 
year to your credit. {Isabelle rises, X's to him. 
He takes her in his artrts.) My child, good-bye. 
May your future life be peaceful, for happy it 
can never be. (Kisses her.) Good-bye. May 
God be merciful to you. (Bxits C.) 

ISABElylvE. 

(Falls to her knees by cradle.) Alone — alone 
forever ! 

CURTAIN. 



77 




ACT I V. 

Lights— See Plot. 

Music at rise — "When Other Lips and Other 
Hearts." 

At ri^e Joyce enters L. with small vase and 
flowers, puts them on de'sk R. Dill enters with 
newspaper in hand. 

Dill. 

Well, what do you think of this, Miss Joyce? 

Joyce. 

What? 

Dill. 

Sir Francis Levison has entered the county 
against Mr. Carlyle. 

Joyce 

Well, that beats everything I ever heard of. 
Sir Francis Levison back in East Lynne and put- 
ting himself up against Mr. Carlyle ! 

Dill. 

That would revive unpleasant memories that 
I hoped were dead and buried. Poor Lady Isa- 
belle — poor, deluded woman, to let that man lead 
her astray. 

Joyce 

How long is it now since poor Lady Isabelle 
was killed, Mr. Dill? 

78 



Dill. 

(At desk R.) About a year and a half. 
It almost killed Mr. Carlyle. 

JOYCB 

(Apron to her eyes). Poor soul, poor Lady 
Isabelle. 

Dill. 

She is better off, Joyce. That railroad acci- 
dent in which she was killed was an act of Provi- 
dence. 

JOYC]© 

And I suppose you would say that Mr. Car- 
lyle's marriage to Miss Barbara Hare less than 
three months afterwards was an act of Provi- 
dence ? 

Dill. 

Joyce, my girl, they had been divorced more 
than two years. Mr. Carlyle had to have a 
mother for his children. 

Joyces 

And she does that well indeed. (Half cry- 
ing.) I shall never forget the night Lady Isa- 
belle called me to her room and made me prom- 
ise that if anything shouM happen to her I would 
never leave her children. Little did I think then 
it would come true in the way it did. 

(Enter with Wilson, zvith hand bag.) 

Wilson. 

Joyce, the new governess has just arrived. 
(Bus.) She's a mighty strange looking creature. 

Joyce;. 

Don't make remarks about your betters. 
Show her to the gray parlor. Tell her Mrs. Car- 
lyle is out driving and will see her as soon as 
she returns. (Exit Wilson L.) 

Dill. 

The new governess? 

79 



JOYCe 

Yes, she was not expected until tomorrow. 
{Bitter Corney.) Miss Corney, the new gover- 
ness has just arrived. 

Corney. 

I don't care to see her — more useless ex- 
pense. I made it so unpleasant for the other 
one she was glad to leave. You had better go 
and ask her if she would like a cup of tea. 

Joyce. 

I'll tell Hannah to fix a light lunch for her. 
I must go to little Willie. He is not at all well 
today. 

Corney. 

Poor child. I'm afraid he is not long for 
this world. 

Joyce 

No, Miss Corney, he grows weaker every 
day. {Exit upstairs.) 

Corney. 

{Seeing Dill.) Well, Mr. Dill, I thought 
you were at the Court House. How is the case 
going? 

DiEE. 

Richard Hare will be a free man in a very 
few hours, Miss Corney. 

Corney. 

Thank the Lord for that, but I suppose he'll 

go gallivanting after some other petticoat. 

* 

DiLE. 

Afy Hallejohn's death-bed confession settled 
beyond all doubt that Capt. Thorn was the mur- 
derer. 

Corney. 

I hope they'll catch the villain. 

80 



Dii.iv. 

So do I, but it has been so long now that 
I've given up hope — nearly six years. 

Corne;y. 

Did that hussy, Afy, give an accurate de- 
scription of the man? 

Dill. 

Well, in her confession she described him as 
a tall, dark, bejeweled, perfumed dandy, with a 
peculiar movement of brushing back his hair; 
also that he was left-handed. Dick's description 
was the same. He met him face to face in Lon- 
don and Thorn struck him with his left hand and 
knocked him down and escaped. Then we have 
also other proofs — the piece of cloth from his 
hunting coat, a perfumed handkerchief and a 
plaster cast of the imprint of his boot heel. 

CORNEY. 

Umph ! With all that the fools ought to be 
able to catch him. 

Dill. 

Oh, by the way. Miss Corney, have you seen 
this ? {Hands newspaper. ) 

CORNIIY. 

What! Sir Francis Levison coming here to 
run against my brother Archibald. Well, the viper. 
Now, Archibald shall canvass. Who was that 
Lady Somebody who kissed a blacksmith to in- 
sure her husband's election? Well, I will kiss 
every man in East Lynne, blacksmiths included, 
to defeat that villain. 

Dill. 

And I'll kiss every woman, including you, 
Miss Corney. 

Corney. 

Don't be an idiot. (Exit L.) 
CarlylE. 

{Enters R. zvith papers and packages. Goes 

8i 



to desk R.) Well, Dill, Dick Hare is a free man 
at last. 

Dill. 

Good — good — I knew he would be. 

Carlyli5. 

{Putting packages in desk.) We won't have 
any further use for these until we find Thorn. 

Dill. 

It looks that way. sir. I suppose you have 
heard of Levison's entering the field against you ? 

CarlylE. 

Yes, Dili, I've heard of it. {Pause, goes to 
desk.) Dill, did you notice how Alfy Hallijohn's 
description of Thorn fitted Sir Francis Levison? 

Dill. 

I had not thought of it before, sir. but it 
does, indeed it does — well! well! {pause.) But, 
sir, Levison couldnt' possibly be Thorn. 

CarlylE. 

For the past week I have been quietly inves- 
tigating and I am lead to believe that they are 
one and the same. 

Dill. 

Why didn't you have him up, sir ? 

Carlylh). 

I must be absolutely sure, Dill.( Pause. 
Goes to desk.) Dill, I want you to go over to the 
Hare residence and bring Dick back with you to 
see his sister. 

Dill. 

Yes, sir. She'll be a mighty happy woman, 
sir. 

Carlyle;. 

Yes, Barbara was nearly worn out. I sent 
her for a drive. She will return shortly. 

82 



Dili.. 

I'll have him here in a jiffy. (Bxit zvindow. 
Carlyle sits by desk R.) 

Carlyle. 

Levison here and my opponent, and I thought 
the dead past had buried its dead. {Takes letter 
and miniature from secret drazver.) "When 
years go on and my children ask where their 
mother is and why she left them, tell them that 

you, their father, goaded her to it. {Archie 

breaks down, then.) {Looking at miniature.) 
Isabelle, how couM you do it; how could you do 
it? 

Barbara. 

{Enters from zvindow.) Oh, Archie, here 
you are What news ? 

Cari^yle. 

{Putting away miniature and letter) {X's to 
her.) Your brother is free. 

Barbara. 

Thank God. {Kisses Archie.) Where is 
he, Archie? 

Carlyle. 

He has gone to your mother. I sent Dill to 
fetch him to you as soon as he had seen her. 
Now, my dear, I have rather bad news for you. 

Barbara. 

What is it, Archie ? 

Carlyle. 

Sir Francis Levison has put himself up 
against me for office. 

Barbara. 

The miserable scoundrel ! What are you 
going to do, Archie? 

Carlyle. 

Defeat him, if I can. 

83 



Barbara. 

Right, Archie. Fight him to the last ditch. 
I only hope he won't dig up the past. 

CarlylE. 

Now, don't, don't, don't, my dear. I must 
return to the office and write out a description of 
Thorn and send to the Bow street officers. 

Barbara. 

Anything new, Archie. 

Cari.yi.1;. 

Afy Hallejohn's death bed confession con- 
tained an accurate description of the man. 

Barbara. 

I hope and pray he will be brought to jus- 
tice. 

(Wilson enters.) 

Wilson. 

The new governess wishes to know when 
you will see her, my lady. 

Barbara. 

I'll see her here at once. 

(Wilson Exits.) 

CaRIvYIvE. 

I'll leave you with her. Caution her es- 
pecially about Willie. Joyce tells me he is much 
viTorse to-day. I will, see him as soon as I re- 
turn. 

(Exit at window.) 

(Corney Enters.) 

CORNEY. 

Barbara, have you heard the disgraceful 
news about that scoundrelly black leg? 

Barbara. 
Who? 

84 



CORNSY. 

Why, Sir Francis Levison. 

Barbara. 

{Laughing.) Yes, Archie just told me. 

CORNKY. 

Archie shall beat him if it takes every penny 
I have in the world. 

Barbara. 

Save your pennies, Corney, Sir Francis Lev- 
ison hasn't the slightest chance. 

Corndy. 

I should hope not, (Bu^.) Barbara. I've 
worked myself into such a state over this I'll 
have to take some juniper tea to quiet my nerves. 
(Sneeses). There! I'll have to put my red 
petticoat round my head and take a dose of jalap 
or I'll not be able to speak above a whisper, and 
this election comingi on. (Bxit (while speaking) 
{Barbara g^oes to piaiw, plays. Mrs. Vine en- 
ters dozvn stairs. Pause. Barbara turns, offers 
hand. Isabeile staggers as if faint, does not take 
hand) . 

Barbara. 

Are you ill, Madam ? 

ISABE^LIvi:. 

No, a little fatigued after my journey. 
That's all. 

Barbara. 

Let me ring for a glass of wine for you. 

Tsabe^lIvE;. 

No, thank you, I've just had a cup of tea. 

Barbara. 

Won't you be seated. You look quite pale. 

Isabella. 

I am naturally pale, Madam, but my health 
is good. 

85 



Barbara. 

Mme. Vine, I think the name is? 

ISABIJLLE. 

Veen (hesitates). My husband was French. 

Barbara. 

Mrs. Latimer wrote us that you were a most 
estimable and worthy person and that you would 
be sure to suit us. I hope you will and that you 
will find your residence agreeable. 

ISABELI,!;. 

I trust so. 

Barbara. 

Sometime after my marriage to Mr. Car- 
lyle, I discovered that Miss Manning, their for- 
mer governness had been ill-treating the chil- 
dren. I dispensed with her services at once. 
Since then, I have looked after them myself as 
much as possible, but naturally my own child 
occupied most of my time. 

Isabe;i.i,e. 

Naturally — 

Barbara. 

I hold an opinion Mme. Vine that most 
mothers pursue a mistaken system in the man- 
agement of their children. Some leave them en- 
tirely to the care of servants. While others de- 
vote their entire time to them. You must have 
observed this. 

Isabella;. 

(Half audibly). Yes. 

Barbara, 

As for myself, I try to divide my time equally 
between my social duties and my domestic ones. 
I shall never neglect my husband for my baby, 
dearly as I love him. (Isabelle bozvs.) Mrs. Lat- 
imer also wrote that you were of gentle birth and 
breeding. 

86 



ISABthht. 

I was born and reared a gentle woman. 

Barbara. 

There is no mistaking' that. I dare say you 
never thought of going out as a governess. 

ISABEJLLie. 

Never, Madam. 

Barbara. 

Your husband is dead? 

Isabe;lIvK. 

(Pause). Yes. 

Barbara. 

And your children? 
Isabella. 

Madame, I have lost all — all. 

Barbara. 

It must be a great grief to lose one's children. 
It would kill me to part with my baby. 

IsabelIvD. 

Grief does not always kill. 

Barbara. 

You are no doubt aware that these children 
that you will take charge of, are not mine. They 
are the chiMren of Mr. Carlyle's first wife. 

ISABElvLE. 

I have heard so. 

Barbara. 

She was the only daughter of the late Lord 
Mt. Severn. She was very beautiful, but she was 
not a good woman, for she forsook her husband 
for another man. 

Isabe;llk. 

No; she was not a good woman. 

Barbara. 

(Sharply) She certainly was not a good 

87 



woman. She was a wicked woman to bring such 
shame upon her children, the shame of having 
a divorced mother. 

Isabella. 

Oh, but she's dead. 

Barbara. 

It's true she's dead, but they will be none 
the less pointed at, the little girl especially. 

ISABKLlvE. 

Do they ever speak of their mother? 

Barbara. 

Theyi allude to their mother now and then, 
Joyce tells me, but I would recommend you not 
to encourage them in that. They had better for- 
get her altogether. Mr. Carlyle naturally wishes 
it so. I trust you may be able to instill such 
principles in the mind of the little girl as will save 
her from her mother's fate. 

ISABEIvLE. 

With God's help I will. 

Barbara. 

(Looking at her sharply). I trust you will. 
Remember the old adage, "What's bred in the 
bone, comes out in the blood." 

ISABELIvE. 

Are the children well ? 

Barbara. 

Quite well. That is, all except the boy Wil- 
liam. The doctor fears his lungs are affected. In 
fact, he has had rather a bad attack to-day. The 
doctor fears he is not long for this world, but 
Mr. Carlyle bears this as bravely as he did the 
desertion of his wife, despite the fact that he 
loved her truly. 

Isabella. 

Did he love her truly? 

88 



Barbara. 

Undoubtedly. At first I thought he had 
married her to satisfy an ambition, but I was con- 
vinced later that he loved her truly, that the sin 
was hers and hers alone. She was killed in a 
railway accident and fortunately her child of sin 
died with her. (Isabelle, rising, XtngL, Joyce 
enters with Willie, steps C.) This is William, 
Mme. Vine. 

Isabijlle;. 

(Turns, takes boy in arms, bus.) 

Barbara. 

Mme. Vine!!! 

Isabe;lle. 

I beg pardon, Madam. I once had a boy just 
his age and I lost him. 

WiLIvIAM. 

May I ride with you to-day. Mamma ? 

(Isabelle starts.) 

Barbara. 

No, William. The air is too chilly for you. 
(Willie X's to Barbara. Isabelle impulsively starts 
towards her, Joyce noticing movement comes 
dcMVn center, between Barbara and Isabelle.) No, 
dear. (Joyce look's intensely at Isabelle.) Mme. 
Vine, this is Joyce, who has had charge of the 
children since the mother so shamefully deserted 
them. (Carriage wheels are heard. Babara goes 
to window.) My husband is coming. (Corney 
enters ) 

Corney. 

Joyce, what in the world have you got that 
child down stairs for? You know he is hardly 
,able to walk. I scarcely turn my back before 
something goes wrong*. 

Barb (At window.) 

Miss Corney, he was brought in to meet the 



new governess ; Mme. Vine, this is Mr. Carlyle's 
sister. 

CORNEY. 

How do you do, Mam. (X's to Barb.) Very 
well, but Joyce is so careless. (Exits.) 

Barrara. 

Take William back to the nursery. (Exit 
William and Joyce, Mme. Vine follows.) One 
moment, Mme. Vine, I wish you to meet my hus- 
band. 

Isabella. 

I would prefer — (Archibald enters Door 
R.. .Barbara comes out of zvindozv, meets Archie. 
Archibald kisses Barbara.) (Bus for Isabelle.) 

Barbara. 

Archie, this is the new governess. Mme. 
Vine, this is my husband. 

CarIvYle. (X's.) 

How do you do, Mme. (Archibald takes 
her hand). I'm glad you've arrived safely. I 
presume my wife has given you instructions. I 
have but one request to make, that you will be es- 
pecially careful with William, as I am afraid the 
boy will not be long with us. 

Isabella. 

(Suppressed emotion.) Yes. (Archie 
pauses. Xs to piano, sits and plays softly "When 
Other Hearts, etc.") 

Barbara. 

(Xing to Mme. Vine.) You will find your 
room just oflf the grey parlor, there, (pointing). 
The nursery is a few steps up from your room. 
I will send Hannah to make you comfortable. I 
trust you will find it agreeable here. (Barbara 
(^oes to piano in alcove.) 

Isabelle (Going.) 

Why did I come here. Oh, patience. Is it 

90 



thus I bear my cross in life. (Song begins, at 
end of song, Wilson enters.) 

WlIvSON. 

Sir Francis Levison. (Barbara and Archie 
rise quickly.) (Isabelle overcome, sinks to floor, 
convulsively removes glasses. Joyce enters from 
stairs quickly, see Tsabelle, recognises her, sup- 
pressed scream. Isabelle recovers, puts finger to 
lips and exits, followed by Joyce. During this 
Barbara and Carlyle have been talking audibly 
ad lib.) (Levis on enters Xs C, Carlyle conies 
down. ) 

Levison. 

How are you, Carlyle. (Extending hand.) 

Carlyle. 

(Putting hands behind him). Sir Francis 
Levison. 

Levison. 

• Come now, don't be uppish. I came here on 
a matter of business, not pleasure. I prefer see- 
ing you alone. 

Carlyle. 

(Lo'oking straight at him). Barbara, will 
you leave us, please? 

Barbara. 

(Coming down beside Archie.) Be careful, 
Archie. 

Carlyle. 

Leave us. (Still looking at Levison, zvho is 
sitting on edge of sofa. Barbara exits). Now, 
Sir Francis Levison, what do you want? 

Levison. 

Well, I don't want to dig up old scores, un- 
less you compel me to. 

Carlyle. 

Well ! 

91 



Levison. 

You are my opponent in the coming elec- 
tion. 

Cari.yle. 

Yes, and if it were not for that, I'd be 
tempted to kill you where you stand. 

Levison. 

Then you'd hang and the office would go 
to an outsider. 

CarIvYLE. 

Come to the point. Why are you here ? 

Levison. 

Carlyle, I'm here for the purpose of making 
a purely business proposition. Privately we are 
bitter enemies ; politically, let us be friends. 

CarIvYLE. 

I intend to make this fight clean and honest. 
I have no intention of making it a personal mat- 
ter. I go my way, you go yours, and let the best 
man win. 

Levison. 

(Laughs). That's just it, Carlyle. I can't 
win with you against me. You as Lawyer Car- 
lyle, the most virtuous citizen in East Lynne, are 
bound to win, but I without many virtuous ten- 
dencies and with rather a high colored reputa- 
tion will lose, but as Sir Francis Levison I must 
win, I want to make you a proposition. 

Carlyle. 

Sir Francis Levison, there is no proposition 
that you can make to me. I'm in this fight to win. 

Levison. 

Come now, think. Is there no inducement 
I can offer you, monetary or otherwise, that 
would induce you to gracefully withdraw from 
this contest ? 

92 



Carlyle). 

There is only one thing that can prevent me 
from using every honorable effort to defeat you, 
and that is death. 

Levison. 

So you mean to fight. 

CarlylK. 

To the bitter end. 

Le;vison. 

(Xing to Carlyle). Then nothing will in- 
duce you to withdraw? 

CaRIvYLK. 

(Pacing him). Nothing. 

Levison. 

I think there is. 

Carlyle. 

What do you mean? 

Levison. 

I mean, Carlyle, (putting his hands in 
pocket) that if you don't withdraw from that 
contest I'll drag the past of that charming first 
wife of yours from the grave and give it to the 
public. 

(Lady Isabelle appears at Curtain.) 

Carlyle. 

(Springing at him, taking him by the throat, 
grinds him to the iioor.) You dog! (During 
struggle, Corney enters. Joyce drags Lady Isa- 
belle behind curtains.) 

Corney. 

Joyce, bring me a kettle of hot water. 

Levison. 

(Regaining his feet, throwing Carlyle off 
with his left hand). Quite unnecessary. Miss 
Cornpy. I can dis,p)ense with such luxuries. 

93 



(taking, handkerchief out of pocket, brushes off 
trousers.) 

CarlyIvE. 

(Aside.) Left handed. 

CORNEY. 

How dare you enter this house, Sir Francis 
Levison ? 

Levison. 

(Putting handkerckkf back in pocket.) I'm 
here on a matter of business, my guardian angel. 
(Handkerchief falls to floor.) In putting hand- 
kerchief back in, pocket it falls to flo'or.) 

CaRIvYIvE. 

(Picking handkerchief up, catches odor. 
Bus. Aside.) Great God! 

CORNEY. 

Your business being finished, Sir Francis 
Levison, I think you had better get out. 

Levison. 

One moment, Miss Corney. I shall go as 
soon as I discover why your esteemed brother 
treated me so rudely. 

CarlylE. 

(Carlyle, who has gone quickly to desk, has 
compared handkerchiefs then comes C.) You've 
dropped your handkerchief, Sir Francis Levison ! 

Levison. 

(Taking it.) Thank you, Mr. Carlyle. 
(turning to Corney). Ah, Miss Corney, if you'll 
remove your charming- presence for a few mo- 
ments Mr. Carlyle and I will endeavor to termi- 
nate our delightful interview amicably. 

Corney. 

Not until I tell you what I think of you. sir. 

Levison. 

Proceed. 

94 



CORNEY. 

I think you are the most miserable, detest- 
able, depraved piece of humanity it has ever been 
my misfortune to meet. (Bxits). 

Levison. 

You flatter me. {Levison turning to Car- 
lyle,\who has been busy at desk comparing notes.) 
It was quite unnecessary to be so emphatic, Car- 
lyle. I have no special desire to dig up old scores. 

CarlylE. 

Nor have I, so suppose we trust to a fair 
fight and no favors. 

Levison. 

Now, that sensible. 

CarlylE. 

{Bringing decanter, two glasses). 

Levison. 

(Taking glass with left hand). Carlyle, 
you're a good sort, if you are a little slow. 
{Drinks.) 

CarlylE. 

{Not drinking). Levison, I never observed 
before that you were left handed. 

Levison. 

Oh! {hiLS.) haven't you? It runs in the fam- 
ily. Carlyle, you would not accept a proposition 
tc withdraw ? 

Carlyle. 

Come back in an hour and I'll give you my 
answer. Dick Hare! 

Dick. 

Quite unnecessary, Mr. Carlyle. You can 
give him his answer now. 

Levison. 

What do you mean, young man? 

95 



Dick. 

I mean you are murderer of Father Halle- 
john. 

Levison. 

(Losing composure.) It's a lie. 

Carlyle (Xing.) 

Levison, I think you've played your last 
card. I was satisfied a moment ago that you and 
Thorn were one and the same. 

Levison. 

Absurd ! Your proof. 

Carlyle. 

This (taking from desk). This (picking 
up boot impression) , and this (picking up hand- 
kerchief), and the death bed confession of Afy 
Halle John. (Holding up paper.) 

Levison. 

Let me see it. (Attempting to take it.) 

Carlyle. 

(Putting it out of reach) . This is no place 
for an investigation, Sir Francis Levison. "Of- 
ficer, have you a warrant ?" 

Dick. 

Yes, Mr. Carlyle, he has, I recognized Sir 
Francis Levison as Captain Thorn shortly after 
I was released. He was making a speech in the 
public square. I recognized him at once. I im- 
mediately had the warrant sworn out and follow- 
ed him here. 

Carlyle. 

Officer. (Signalling oflicey. Officer comes 

c.) 

Levison. 

Carlyle, this is a clever trick of yours. You 
may win the election, but after that, we'll see. 
Officer, I presume I shall have to submit to this 

96 



indignity. {Holding out hands. Officer roughly 
places handcuffs on Levison's wrists). Care- 
fully, kind sir, don't soil my linen. {Handcuffs 
are locked.) Now, now, officer, if you will kind- 
ly place my hat on my head. {Officer places hat.) 
Thank you. 

{Corney enters.) 

CORNEY. 

Wen, well. What's all this? 

CarlyIvD. 

Corney, this gentleman, Sir Francis Levison, 
alias Capt. Thorn. 

CORNSY. 

What? 

Cari^yle. 

Is the murdered of Alfy's father. 

Corne;v. 

Well, the devil always claims his own. 

Le;vison. 

Then I'll see you later. {Officer touches him 
on shoulder.) Don't interrupt me when I'm 
speaking to a lady. Oh, beauteous vixen. I real- 
Iv must tear myself away. 

Corney. 

You impudent puppy. Officer, remove that 
creature as quickly as possible. 

Levison. 

Now, don't distort that beautiful counten- 
ance. You can't improve upon nature. Miss Cor- 
ney. Carlyle, I'll see you later. Come, officer, I 
shall be late for dinner. {Starts up.) Oh, by 
the way. Miss Corney, there is one thing that will 
console me. I shall not be bored with the sight of 
your ugly mug. 

Corney. 

What a beautifully ironed pair of cufifs you 
have en. Sir Francis Levison. 

97 



Levison. 

Yes, the finish is delightfully domestic. Now, 
Miss Corney, beware of the naughty, naughty 
men. Take good care of yourself and don't for- 
get your red flannel petticoat. (Goes to window.) 
Carly!e, if you ever want a lock of your first 
wife's hair, I can supply you. 

(Carlyle starts. Dick stops him). (Levi- 
son laughs, exits singing "In a Prison Cell I 
sit") 

Corney. 

Well, I do believe he'd practice his arts upon 
me if he thought there was any chance of his suc- 
ceeding. 

Carlyi^e. 

That man is the most consummate scoundrel 
I have ever known. (Pause.) What misery, 
what pain, I rhight have been spared, could we 
have discovered long ago that Levison and Thorn 
were one. 

Corney. 

There is no doubt of his guilt? 

Carlyle. 

None. Alfy Hallejohn's confession is suffi- 
cient to convict him even without Dick's identi- 
fication. 

Corney. 

Well, Dick Hare, it serves you right. You 
would go gallivanting after that brazen hussy, 
Alfy Hallejohn. 

Carlyle. 

Corney, Dick has suffered enough. Take 
him to his sister at once. 

Cornly. 

Come along, Richard. I always said you 
were the greatest natural born fool ever let loose 
out of leading strings. (Bxit Dick and Corney.) 

(Excitedly Dill enters through window.) 

98 



Dill. 

Mr, Carlyle, is it true? Is it true that Levi- 
son is Thorn and Thorn is Levison ? 

Carlyle. 

Undoubtedly. (Smiling.) 

Dill. 

I might have known it, sir. I might have 
known it. 

Carlyle. 

(Going to him). It's a pity, Dill we did 
not know it long ago. 

Dill. 

I wish we had, sir. I wish we had. (Tak- 
ing hands and shaking them.) (Carlyle exits 
slowly through ivindow.) Poor Mr. Carlyle, 
poor Mr. Carlyle. (Pause.) Poor Lady Isabelle, 
what suffering might have been spared you. If 
we had only known, 

(Corney enters.) 

CORNLY. 

Well, Mr. Dill, it's all over. 

Dill. 

Yes, Miss Corney, Levison has come into his 
own at last. 

Corney. 

Yes, thank the Lord. I must take another 
drink of juniper tea, I'm that nervous. 

Dill. 

Miss Corney, may I speak with you a mo- 
ment? 

Corney. 
Well! 

Dill. 

Miss Corney. (Pause.) Miss Corney — 
(Pause.) (Corney comes down and looks at 
him. ) 

99 



CORNEY. 

Well! 

Dill. 

Old Mr. Carmthers was married this morn- 
ing. 

CORNEY. 

The old fool. What's that got to do with 
me? (Sneeses.) 

Dill. 

Well, Miss Corney, he was just my age, 
seventy-one. 

Corney. 

Old enough to know better. (Smeezes.) 
Come, Mr. Dill, say what you've got to say and 
hurry or I'll sneeze my head off. 

Dill. 

Oh, Miss Corney, you know none of us are 
too old to feel the tender passion. Cupid is 
knocking at the door of my old heart. (Sneeses.) 

Corney. 

(Laughing). Why, you old idiot. 

Dill. 

Don't laugh, Miss Corney, the feeling of 
love has been gawing at my heart for months. 
(Corney (Sneeses) Dill falls upon his 
knees in front of her. She almost falls over him. 
She turn\s a*way. He grabs her hand.) At 
night your beautiful face haunts me in my 
dreams. It is like drinking the water of everlast- 
ing life. (Sneezes.) 

(Arms akimbo.) Well, there's no fool like 
an old fool. 

Dill. 

(Rising.) Miss Corney, will you be my 
wife? 

lOO 



CORNEY. 

No! (Sneeze.) {Giznng him a push and 
exits.) 

Dill. 

Well, did she say no, or did she sneeze; 
{Sprucing up) but faint heart never won fair 
lady. {Exit alter Corney\) 

JOYC^. 

(Enters excitedly from stairs C) (Calling) 
Mme. Vine ! Mme. Vine ! Mme. Vine ! ! (Lady 
Isabelle appears at Arch L.) Oh, Lady Isabelle. 
(Lady Isabelle motions silence.) 

Isabe;lle. 

What is it Joyce ? 

Joyce:. 

Ever since William saw you this afternoon, 
he's been calling Mamma, Mamma, Mamma, 
Just now he wakened out of a sound sleep, call- 
ing "Mamma, I'm coming, I'm coming. He 
looked so strange. I'm sure t's the end. 

(Isabelle bus.) 

Isabelle. 

I must go to him at once. (Starts up C. 
Willie appears on stairs with hands extended.) 

Willie. 

Mamma, I'm coming, I'm coming. 

Isabelle. 

(Isabelle takes baby in her arms.) My boy, 
what is it, what is it? (Takes him to couch L, 
kneeling bv his side.) Joyce, bring me the re- 
storative. "Quickly. Wilfie! Willie! (Child 
looks up.) 

Willie. 

Mme. Vine — I'm going to my mother. 

Isabelle. 

No, no, you must not die, Willie, Willie. 

loi 



{Joyce enters with medicines. Mme. Vine takes 
it.)' Joyce, send Mrs. Carlyle to me. (Pause.) 

Willie. 

Why shouM you grieve so for me. I'm not 
your child. 

Isabella. 

Why? Because I lost a little boy just like 
you. 

Willie. 

Mme. Vine, do you think I'll know my 
mother there. 

ISABELLE. 

Yes, you'll know her there. 

Willie. 

Did you ever see my mother, Mme. Vine? 

ISABELLE. 

Yes, I knew her and she told me that al- 
though she was parted from her children here, 
she would meet them again in heaven, where all 
sin and guilt of the world will be washed away. 

(Archie enters quickly, goes to the foot of 
couch.) 

Carlyle. 

Mme. Vine, is he worse? 

ISABELLE. 

Very much worse. I would advise you to 
call Dr. Wainwright immediately. 

Carlyle. 

I will, and I'll send his mother to him. 
(Bxit^) 

ISABELLE. 

His mother. I can't bear it. Willie ! Wil- 
lie ! But to think just for one moment that I am 
your mother. 

Willie. 

Papa has gone for her now. 

102 



No ! no ! no ! ( Takes off glasses. ) I'm your 
mother. (Catches him in her arms.) Call me 
mother just once, just once. (Willie looks at her 
and says faintly, "Mother" dies.) He's dead, 
he's dead. (Joyce enters.) 

JOYCEJ 

Oh, my lady, they'll discover you. 

ISABEI^I^E. 

Go, go ; leave me with my grief. No matter 
what I am, what I've been, I'm his mother. 

(CURTAIN.) 



103 




ACT V. 

(At rise music "Endearing Young Charms;' 
played slozvly and plaintively. ) 

Scene. See plot. 

At rise, cold grey light on drop hack of zvin- 
dow, S1V0ZV' falling. Isabelle discovered dozing in 
arm chair by dying fire. Lights on scene half 
down^ Sleigh bells distant approaching. Church 
bell. 

Carlyle. 

Isabelle, Isabelle. 
Isabelle:. 

Yes, yes, dear. (Half running up to ivin- 
dow. ) 

CarlylE. 

Barbara, my dear, come here. (Isabelle col- 
lapses, realizing situation.) Little Isabelle is knee 
deep in the snow. 

Isabelli:. 

A dream, a dream. (Pause, sigh) "the sin 
that ye do, two by two, must be paid for one by 
one." 

(Voices and sleigh bells again.) 

(Joyce enters as Isabelle is struggling back 
to bed.) 

JOYCS. 

You've been exerting yourself again, my 
104 



lady. {Joyce helps her hack to bed during this 
speech.) 

ISABElvLE. 

Oh, Joyce, I'm all right, quite strong. I'm 
going to take Willie out for his drive to-day. 
{ad lib, until she 'suddenly catches sight of face 
in glass, which recalls her to herself. Quickly) 
Oh, I forgot. Joyce, what day is this? 

Joyce 

Sunday, my lady. 

Isabella. 

Then it's just two weeks, isn't it, Joyce? 

JOYC^. 

What, Lady Isabelle? 

ISABElLIvS. 

Since my boy left us. 

JOYClS. 

( Turning azvay and wiping eyes zvith apron ) 
Yes, my lady. {Half audibly.) 

ISABELLi:. 
Joyce. 

JOYCKI. 

Yes, Lady Isabelle. 

ISABElvLIJ. 

He must be so lonely out there under the 
snow. 

JOYCB. 

Won't you let me send for Dr. Martin before 
it is too late, my lady. 

ISAB^I,!,!;. 

No, no, no. ( hysterically. Isabelle gasps and 
falls back exhausted.) (Joyce, thinking she is 
dying, rushes out of the room, calling "My Lady, 
my lady.") {Joyce meets Miss Corney' outside 
door.) 

105 



Joyce. 

Oh, mam, you mustn't go in there. 

CORNEY. 

Who is to keep me out, I'd like to know? 

Joyce. 

No, no, You shall not go in, you shall not. 

CORNEY. 

Mercy, be good. What's the matter with 
you. If one were a drinking woman, I'd think 
you were tipsy. Away with you, I'll see what's 
wrong here. 

Joyce. 

Oh, what'll become of us, What'll become 
of us, 

CORNEY. 

(Entering abruptly, slamming door, speak- 
ing.) Are you mistress in this house, or am I? 
(Turns facing bed, sees Isabelle.) Mercy, be good, 
how did you come here ? (Pause in utter aston- 
ishment.) You were Mme. Vine! 

ISABEIvLE. 

Yes. (Pause.) 

CORNEY. 

How dared you come back here. 

ISABEEEE. 

My children. (Pause.) Don't, don't re- 
proach me. The Savious did not come to save 
the good like you, he came to save poor sinners 
like me. I took up my cross and tried to bear it 
bravely, but its weight has killed me. 

CoRNEY. 

No, I'll not reproach you, 

Isabelle. 

(Timidly putting out hand.) Thank you! 
(Corney takes it, coming to her.) 

io6 



CORNEY. 

Child, had I anything to do with sending 
you away from East Lynee? 

ISABELIvE. 

You did not send me, but I was not happy 
with you, but that was not the cause of my going 
away. 

CORNEY. 

I could have made your home happier. 

Isabella. 

(Patise.) Miss Corney, I want to see 
Archie, (Corney hesitates) only for a minute. I 
could die easier. 

CORNKY. 

Yes, I'll send for him. (Goes to door.) 
Joyce (steps outside.) Choir begins to sing 
"The Palms" in the Church opposite. Isabelle lis- 
tens. Corney returns., opens curtains.) (Pause.) 

(Archie enters.) 

CarlylS. 

Well, Corney. 
Corney. 

(Taking him by arm and leading him donvn) 
Isabelle. 

Come back. 

CarlylE. 

What! (Pause, during zvhich Corney ex- 
its.) 

Isabelle. 

I couldn't die without trying to make you 
understand. 

CarlylE. 

(Turn^s azvay to hide emotion) 
Isabelle. 

Don't turn away from me. (Pause.) I 
could not stay away from you and the children. 

107 



(Pause.) Speak to me, speak to me. {Carlyle 
still silent.) My sin was great, but by punish- 
ment was greater. 

CarIvYle. {Approaching her.) 
Why did you go away? 

ISABELLE. 

Because I thought you had betrayed me for 
another. 

Carlyle. 

{Archie turns away.) 

IsabEllE. 

I thought you loved Barbara Hare. I saw 
you with your arms about her and to revenge 
myself upon you, I listened to Francis Levison. 
When I came to my senses, it was too late to turn 
back. (Slight pause.) Let what I am be blotted 
out for just one moment. Think of me as I was 
when you first knew me. 

Carlyle. 

(Long wailing groan, bowing head on Isa- 
helle's hands.) Oh, Isabelle! 

ISABELLE. 

(Stretching out hand, putting it on Archie's 
hcfaved head.) Can you forgive me? 

Carlyle. 

Isabelle, you almost broke my heart (looking 
at her). 

Isabelle. 

My heart is breaking for just one word. Do 
you (hesitates) Did you love me? 

Carlyle. 

I loved you, Isabelle, with all my soul. (Song 
begins, "H'oly City," softly.) 

Isabelle. 

Archie, do you — 

io8 



Isabella. 

{Reaches out arms, gasps, falls forzuard. 
Archie catches her and puts back on pil- 
lows.) (As Isabelle falls, last ember of the dying 
fire drops. Sun bursts through the zvindow. 
Voices of people. Song burst forth.) 

{CURTAIN.) 



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